The Harder They Fall
by LadyExcalibur2010
Summary: Outtakes from "The Bigger They Are" from different POVs. Won't make much sense without reading Bigger. Bella is a military widow with four sons, Edward is a confirmed bachelor and career soldier. He only does casual, but she's got lots of baggage.
1. Chapter 1: Two Men at the Door

**The Harder They Fall**

Outtakes from "The Bigger They Are" from Bella's POV. These won't make sense without reading the other story. No need to leave reviews if that isn't your thing. If you like it, then thank you. This story just needs to come out, so I'm obeying the muse and hoping she'll have pity on me.

_**#1 Two Men at the Door**_

I heard the knock on the door, but it didn't register at first. I was finally sleeping, that elusive healing trace that came with so much difficulty now that I was alone in the bed again. I reached over out of habit, but Mac's side of the bed was empty…cold. Fuck. Then I sat up in the lonely bed and realized that it had been the knock on the door that woke me up. I glanced at the clock.

Shit. Six fifteen in the morning? No good news ever arrived at that time. My heart began thumping hard in my chest. Dread settled in, bone deep. I shrugged on a robe and tripped down the stairs. I could see the figures of two men in the illumination from the porch light. I always left the lights on all night when Mac was gone. I'd left the lights on a lot during our marriage. I felt my loneliness as a sharp blade slicing through me, right through the middle, but the two men waiting at my door caused fear to wash through me. Terror trumped lonely.

I squared my shoulders. I could do this. I was an Army wife. We knew the score. Even as I opened the door I knew. Any of my neighbors would have known too. We looked for that car, even when we didn't. Some part of our head was always waiting…just waiting… We had seen the car stop at other houses; all of us had seen other families shattered. And we waited for our turn. But we never _expected_ it.

Most of us on this street had someone over there…in harm's way. For some reason, that phrase made me want to laugh. It sounded almost…poetic. But war wasn't poetic. It was hot and dirty and deadly.

And Mac was in the thick of it.

Dawn had just begun to spread its golden light on the Texas landscape. I blinked up at the two men in uniform. "Mrs. Isabella James?" It was the taller one, and his voice and face were kind…and full of pity.

The world swayed and tilted and suddenly they were leading me back into the house. They said a lot of words, but only a few of them were important. Dead. Killed in action. McCarty Emmett James. Someone will be in touch. Words, just words. Worthless, useless words and I refused to pay attention.

"If you need anything." The taller one shifted uneasily. What a shit job he had. _"Hello, Mrs. Fill in the Blank. I'm sorry to inform you that your husband has made the ultimate sacrifice and died in the service of his country." _In that moment, I hated him. What was he doing here in the States, safe and in his clean, crisp uniform while my husband was out there dying?

Did I need anything? Was he serious?

Hell yes I needed something. I needed Mac. I needed my husband. But he wasn't coming home. Never again. Then there were other arms around me. I looked. It was Linda, my next door neighbor. They always called a friend or neighbor. I knew the drill. Linda was a good choice, steady and stolid. She wouldn't crack under the pressure. She'd keep me from doing anything stupid. Or at least she'd try.

Her husband Ray was serving with Mac. We had lived next door to each other for two years now. We got along fine. She was a little older than I was, but my kids liked hers. That was good enough for me.

Now she was here to hold me while I tried to make sense of the news that my husband had been killed. I realized then that I hadn't caught the words that explained exactly what happened. Sniper fire? IED? Mortar fire? Vehicle rollover? It seemed there were a thousand ways to die in a war. Mac and I had talked about that one time. I didn't like to recall the conversation now.

Linda was crying. Wait. That was me. I didn't realize it until Linda handed me a tissue and pulled me close. In that moment, she felt a little like my mother and so I just sobbed. It was shock mostly at that point. I couldn't feel the grief yet. The pain hadn't hit me. Not yet. It would. It was coming like a beast of prey. I could feel it stalking me. I could feel its hot breath on my neck.

Oh yes, I was going to hurt. I was going to go down. It was going to be a big hurt, the kind that separates your life into "before" and "after."

Then there were two small hands wrapping around mine and I looked up to see Jakey. He looked distorted, but I figured out that was just the tears. I hugged him so tight I think he hurt a little bit, so I let up. He buried his face in my neck.

"What's wrong, Mama?" He hadn't called me Mama in a year. Last year I became Mom. He informed me that kindergartners don't call their mothers Mama. My baby knew. My wise old soul, of course he knew.

I couldn't answer him; I couldn't say the words. Linda offered to go get the other boys for me. Was I ready? Hell no. But I had to do it all the same. That was part of the job. I was an Army wife and I'd do the job, same as Mac did his.

But suddenly, I wanted my own father with me more than almost anything in the world. Except for Mac. I wanted Mac more. But he was gone.

Then Emmett was standing there, his lower lip quivering, his expression defiant, and his eyes full of tears he wouldn't shed. He had taken one look at the uniforms and his face had shifted. I'd watched him grow up in that instant. His childhood was over and he knew it.

Seth stumbled down next, blinking sleepily. He looked at Emmett and started crying. My smart, sensitive boy. Of course he knew too. They were Army brats; they knew the score too. They'd been to the funerals. They had seen their friends pack up and move away when a parent died over there. We lived on base. Death and early morning visits were just a fact of life. Death. Life. Did it really matter anymore?

Then Sam, slipping his hand into mine and squeezing hard. He hated waking up early, but he was wide awake today. Like most children, he had an instinct for reading situations that adults think they can hide. By now Jake and Seth were both crying, but not Emmett. Not Sam. Sam was clenching his jaw and trying to listen to what the men in uniforms were trying to say. It almost seemed like he wanted to take notes.

Linda was nodding and answering them. I was silent, except the heaving breaths. I couldn't get enough air. That was the problem.

"I'm going upstairs for a minute," I called out and rushed up to our bathroom. My bathroom now, I supposed. No, not mine. We'd be moving soon. That's how it worked. 

I barely made it to the toilet before my stomach emptied itself out. I hugged the white porcelain toilet for a long time, a lifetime. My stomach heaved and roiled and protested. Mac couldn't be gone.

No. He had _promised_ me he'd come home. He had promised me that things would be better and he'd be home with me and our boys. Promises made. Promises broken.

Then I was rocking back and forth on the bathroom floor and I heard a keening cry that sounded like an animal caught in a trap, chewing off its own leg just to get free. Get free. Get free. Get away!

Escape the pain. Oblivion is better than this agony…

_Anger_ was better than pain. The rage fluttered at the edges of my pain.

So I let the anger flow in, I welcomed it. I fucking _reveled_ in it.

"Fuck you, Mac. Fuck you." I pounded the floor with my fists. The white tile floor was soon smeared with streaks of red. I couldn't figure out why or what it was. No matter. I kept hitting. Better to hit than to cry. Pound. Pound. Slap. The sweet stinging pain of my hands was a relief. Red anger fluttering around me, holding me fast in its grip. It was safe there, no pain allowed.

But the anger couldn't be sustained. It abandoned me and the pain flowed right back to its rightful place.

The bathroom floor was cool against my cheek. I should have mopped it. I would have mopped it if I'd known.

Mac. Oh God Mac, how am I going to go on without you?

_Mac! _You promised. You lied.

And I was alone.


	2. Chapter 2: In This House Bella's POV

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyers. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**#2 In This House**_

The door closed behind the movers one last time, and I heaved a sigh of relief. At last, we were alone in our new home. Upstairs I could hear the boys good-naturedly arguing with each other. Fortunately, being Army brats, moving never bothered them much. Even this one, which they took in stride like they always did. They expected to move because we always did. Like me, they had learned to make friends quickly in any new place they found themselves. My own father's constant relocations had forced me to overcome my shyness. Now, I was grateful. It had been good preparation for my adult life. Like me, my boys adjusted quickly to new people, new places, and new situations. Of course, nothing could have really prepared for this new life. A life without Mac. Even now, it was hard to comprehend.

I sat down on the couch and sank into like an old friend. I rubbed my hand over the nubby fabric. It was in an earth tone. Mac and I had both like the earthy colors, the shades found in nature. Besides, it was Scotch-Guarded, and with four boys, that was the most important thing. Practical was better than pretty when you had kids. I closed my eyes, remembering the day we had picked it out.

**~THTF~**

"God Bella," Mac had been bitching. "We've seen a thousand couches. And you're telling me that not _one_ of them is right?" He hated shopping unless it was being done in a hardware store. The man could spend hours in the screw and fasteners section along. One Christmas I'd given him a huge box of assorted screws, fasteners, bolts, and nuts in the hopes of avoiding that section of the hardware store for a while. No such luck.

"I'll know it when I see it," I promised him. Mac had rolled his eyes and shook his head, but a smile tugged at his mouth. He was annoyed, but not too much. I knew he'd indulge me. And he had, following me to easily half a dozen stores. Then we had walked into a small, family-owned business called Polk's – and there it was. _My_ couch. It was like we had been made for each other.

I sat down on it and patted the seat beside me. "Come here, soldier," I invited. I fluttered my eyelashes at him in an outrageously exaggerated motion.

Mac grumbled and muttered, but he sat down beside me. "So…do we have a winner?" He sounded tired and cranky.

I laughed and leaned over to kiss him. He looked around guiltily. My husband was sometimes reticent about showing affection…in public. He hadn't grown up with a hugger for a mom like I did. In private, it was a whole different matter.

"It's a good cuddling couch," I whispered.

"Yeah?" Then he winked. "Well, if our boys let us have any actual cuddling time we'll have to give that a shot."

I rolled my eyes. "I know, I know." Our lives had been increasingly hectic. Our youngest son Jake was just about to turn two and was into _everything_. Any trouble he might have missed, his brothers obligingly pointed out for him. I was exhausted most days, and Mac's hours had been long too.

We had the will, just not the energy. We'd make time tonight, I vowed. Even if I had to chug Monster to do it. "I love you," I said, snuggling up next to him for a moment.

I felt his lips touch my hair. "I love you too, Bells."

**~THTF~**

"Mom!" It was Seth calling my name. I sighed, knowing my moment of peace was over. It had been good while it lasted, I mused. "Emmett won't leave me alone!"

"If I have to come up there, you're all going to be sorry!" I yelled back up. Then I heard Emmett.

"I _told_ you!"

Then Sam piped up. "Guys, come on. Let's try and give Mom some quiet time."

"Yeah," Jake added. "_Geez_." He sounded completely disgusted, and at six years old, he had a knack for it. "Just try, why don't you?"

I laughed in spite of myself. My boys were trying so hard to be good, to be absolutely perfect little gentlemen so I wouldn't be stressed. The only problem was, they _weren't_ perfect little gentlemen and to be honest, I didn't _want_ them to be. I just wanted them to be…themselves. I wanted them to be the kids they had been before Mac's death, sometimes whiny, sometimes good, and just generally the adorable little pains in the ass that I knew and loved so well. Even when they drove me crazy, they were mine and I loved them - the _real_ boys I knew they were.

Still, I had to admit that they had handled this move with far more grace than I had. I had been prone to tears, panic attacks (always when I was by myself even if I had to run into the nearest bathroom), and just generally been an emotional wreck. If it hadn't been for the boys, I had a suspicion I might have curled up in a ball and just mentally checked out. But I couldn't do that; I had a responsibility to them to try and make things normal again. A new kind of normal, not as good as the old normal, but it was all we had.

Part of what made this move for me so very difficult was that this was the first time we'd moved without him. Sometimes we had had to wait a while for Mac to join us, or sometimes he would move ahead of us, but we always known that the reunion was imminent. Now, of course, there was only this painful knowledge that he would never unpack these boxes, or argue with me over the placement of the silverware in this kitchen, or ask me a thousand times where the remote or the shovel or his lucky pair of socks were hiding _here._

Mac wasn't coming to _this_ home. He would never sit in this living room or help me decide what color to paint it. He would never sweat and swear as he tried to fix the fence out back, or change the oil in the SUV on this driveway. His tools would not fill this garage and his book would never rest on the nightstand in that bedroom upstairs. He wouldn't groan and roll over when the sun came streaming in that bedroom window and plead for five more minutes. I wouldn't hear him stumble to the bathroom and hit the wall on our first night here, as he invariably would have. He wouldn't go up to those rooms where the boys were supposed to be sleeping and warn them to quiet down. He wouldn't steal samples from the pots on this stove, or keep opening this oven to check on the brownies. He wouldn't fling open this door and yell out, "I'm home from the salt mines!" He wouldn't try to be quiet as he made love to me in our bed upstairs, or laugh at me when I got too loud, as I usually did. He'd never sneak in that blue and ivory bathroom and try to shower with me, or slam its door when he was annoyed with me. Mac would never bitch about mowing this lawn or planting flowers in this yard or putting up bird feeders in these trees. He wouldn't be here to make this house a home.

That was up to me now.

I sighed. I had the boys, and they had me – and that would have to do because we didn't have a choice in the matter. Our choices had been taken away by a single piece of shrapnel in the middle of a desert half a world away. We'd work through this adjustment period as we had done everything else – together. I closed my eyes and let the normal sounds of four boys permeate my senses. This was the music of my life, except now there was a note missing. Mac. It had only been two months so I knew it was much too soon to expect my grief to start to dull. But I wondered if I would ever _not _feel this terrible ache that threatened to overwhelm me every moment of the day. Right now it felt sort of like a forever thing.

I decided that I needed sleep more than I needed to supervise the boys at that moment. I was fairly certain that they wouldn't kill each other in the next hour or so. I reclined on the couch and closed my eyes and gave myself up to slumber. It was shockingly easy, especially considering how little I'd been sleeping lately. Or maybe that's why I slipped under so easily.

I soon found myself in that strange place just before waking and yet not quite asleep. Mac's lips were tracing a teasing pattern up and down my throat. "Mac…" I whispered, half-protesting, but not too much. It had been so long… I was tired, but maybe not _that _tired.

"Sweetheart," he whispered. "You've got to take better care of yourself."

"What?" I shivered at the feel of his warm breath against my ear. God I loved it when he did that – and he knew it.

"I'm worried about you, Bells," Mac said. "You're not eating like you should. And I can't remember the last night you actually slept all the way through."

I murmured and shifted against him. He was so solid and warm behind me and somehow we fit perfectly on the couch together, tucked up against each other like when we were newlyweds and would watch old movies together. "I'm trying," I said. "It's just so hard. I'm so lonely."

Our conversation made no sense, but that was all right. How could I be lonely? Mac was right here with me. I felt too peaceful to worry about it.

"Try harder…for me, Bella," Mac murmured. "I love you so much, and I don't want to see you go down this road."

"The road is wide and long, Mac." I had no idea why I had said that, but my body felt languid and contented to be near his. I didn't want to think; I just wanted to _feel_. Feel him next to me.

"Promise me something?" His voice sounded softer, as if he was getting farther away, which made no sense at all because I could still feel him behind me.

"Anything for you, Mac…" I was getting so very sleepy again. I knew in just a few seconds I would be out. But I had a promise to make. What was it again?

"Promise me that you'll let yourself be happy again," Mac said in his ever-fainter voice. "Fall in love…be happy again…_please_…find what I can't give you anymore…I won't be able to stand it if you're miserable forever…"

"Mac?"

Nothing but silence.

"Mac?'

I woke up, startled and gasping for breath. It had been so real; _he_ had been so real. I had felt his arms around me, his breath against me, the length of his body pressed to mine. But it had been no more than a cruel illusion. Nothing more.

I was still alone and that was the cruelest thing of all.


	3. Chapter 3: All My Love Mac's POV

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#3 All My Love**

_**July 2006**_

_**Mac's POV**_

"_A hundred hearts would be too few  
To carry all my love for you."  
~Author Unknown_

**~THTF~**

_I miss you and the kids, sweetheart. I love you. I always will._

_All My Love,_

_Mac_

I signed the letter as I always did, wondering how long it would be before Bella got it. I was lucky to be on a bigger base out here. That meant we had more amenities than those stuck in some of the hell holes farther out. Still, nothing was luxurious by any means, but the mail seemed to arrive on regular basis and I was grateful for that. I dropped my letter in the box, knowing that soon Bella and the boys would see the "Free Mail" mark and they would gather around her while she read the parts they should hear. Some of it was just for her.

Then I sat in the tent and sweltered. I was anxious and antsy. The boredom out here was unfucking believable. And when you weren't bored, you were usually scared shitless. There didn't seem to be an in-between. I felt as if my skin was stretched too tightly over my flesh. Shit, this deployment already sucked balls. I closed my eyes and tried to block out the sounds of the men bickering in the tent with me. We were all tense. Later on, there was supposed to be some sort of big, celebration dinner in the mess tent. Happy fucking Birthday, America. Sometimes home felt a million miles away.

"Hey James!" I turned. It was Murphy.

"Leave me the fuck alone," I grumbled. I was grumpy and I knew it. He called me a douche and went to the latrine where he'd disappear for the next hour. What he did in there I didn't want to know.

I wouldn't apologize later, but I would offer him some of the beef jerky I had hidden away. I _had_ been a douche, as Murphy had so succinctly pointed out. The sad fact was that I missed Bella and our boys. And I had no one to blame but myself. I was a fucking moron. I would email her today and grovel at her feet. I should have written it in the letter. Anything to tell her how sorry I was. The only reason I hadn't done so weeks ago is that I was, as I've already mentioned, a fucking moron.

Already this deployment felt…wrong. I wondered if that was because I'd sort of snuck behind Bella's back and volunteered. Ah hell, I didn't have to wonder. I knew that was exactly the reason why.

"_I understand you doing your duty, Mac, and I'm behind you one hundred percent. But you've done your turn. Let someone else go. We've done our time. All of us, and you know it."_

She had been right and I had been wrong. Then why was it so fucking hard to admit it to myself, much less to her? Oh that's right, I'm a dumb ass.

I found myself thinking of my father, who had died in a bar fight when I was fifteen. I could still remember my mom crying, begging him not to go out drinking. The memory probably wasn't from that night in particular, but it didn't matter. It pretty much typified their marriage and that scene had been replayed over and over again through the years. My mom was already sick when my father died. She lived to see me graduate from high school and to see me get my acceptance letter from the state university. She did not live to see me drink and brawl my way through what should have been my freshman year. Sometimes fate was kind.

I had a knack for drinking and fighting. It was in my blood, after all. I had always vowed not to be like my father, and yet… What I had done was pretty much the same thing. I spent a year frequenting bars by means of a fairly good fake I.D. Most bouncers didn't look much past my six and half feet. I was slightly less successful at picking fights, because in that area my size worked against me. It intimidated people. They had no way of knowing that I wanted to get the shit beat out of me as much as I wanted to do the beating. Eventually though, my big mouth would usually get the desired outcome. I was pretty damned obnoxious and able to push guys beyond their boundaries.

I was slowly killing myself (like father, like son as the saying goes) and I might have succeeded if I hadn't happened to make a wiry old ex-Army sergeant my target one particular night. After he laid me out with one quick, neat punch to my jaw, he roused me from my little nap and asked me what the hell I was doing with my life. I looked up at him through bleary eyes and gave the most honest answer of my 19 years.

"I don't have a fucking clue."

Three months later, I found myself stone cold sober and scared shitless with an Army drill sergeant screaming in my face and telling me I was a worthless piece of crap. I already knew that, but somewhere along the way in Basic I found out that I didn't have to _stay _that way. To my surprise, the Army was a fit. That need to pound on another human being was given a safe and structured outlet. In the barracks no one cared who my father was or that I'd skipped out on college. No one in my platoon had even really considered college. We didn't fit in with that crowd and we didn't really care. But we all knew we wanted something more. We all had our own reasons for joining.

Eventually, the drill sergeants stopped telling us how worthless we were, and started telling us that we were finally looking like real soldiers. For some of us, that was the first time we'd felt any pride at all in ourselves and it was a very good feeling. We were _soldiers_, and we wanted to be good ones. Then we graduated and I went to my first post. I fit in there too. I had long ago lost contact with my old drinking buddies, but I didn't care, I had found _brothers_ in their places.

I still got into fights, but this time I had my buddies at my back and it was more likely to be against fellow soldiers. Hell, we all had some steam to blow off and a little brawling was just the ticket. No one took it seriously and half the time we'd end up buying beers for each other before it was all over. A few bruises and a broken nose or two was a small price to pay. We'd shoot the shit and talk about sports and women and our various commanding officers, who usually ended up being dicks.

I was happy, or at least I wasn't unhappy. I didn't realize the difference until I met her.

I was in Ft. Lewis. It was summer and I had gotten lucky the night before with a pretty little blond named Lola or Lisa or something like that. I was a little hung over, but not bad, so I considered it a good day. I was getting some coffee and I turned around and saw _her_.

A petite brunette, her face scrubbed clean, wearing this innocent little white blouse with some sort of lacy collar and a modest skirt that came to her knees. She was a cool breeze on a hot summer day. She should have looked out of place surrounded by uniforms, but she didn't. She looked absolutely at ease and utterly…perfect. I swear I would have dropped to my knees right then and there and proposed.

I might have too, if she hadn't rolled her eyes at me as soon as she saw me checking out her boobs, which was pretty much a reflex action. "Asshole," I heard her mutter. It seemed odd that an angel would know that word, so I was pretty sure I had heard her wrong.

I grinned at her, certain that the old James charm was going to work. She just sighed and put one hand on her hip. "Excuse me?" And she tried to edge around me to get in line to get her own coffee or tea or something. All I knew was that she seemed pretty intent on ignoring me.

And that shit just wasn't going to cut it. I was prepared to be obnoxious or charming, whatever it took to get her attention.

"Anyone ever tell you that you're beautiful?" I asked.

She turned abruptly at that, and her long hair swung and brushed against my arm. Instant erection. Her beautiful brown eyes narrowed at me. "Really, that's the _best_ you've got?" She sounded genuinely disappointed, as if I had let her down.

"Well, how about I take you out tonight?" I thought the offer was pretty sweet. I'd show her a good time.

She took a step forward and for the first time I realized how really tiny she was. Angel was more than a foot shorter than me. I just wanted to tuck her up against me and keep her safe there. Forever.

Then her finger was poking in face. "Listen buddy, I don't know why you think that lame ass shit is going to work with me, but I'll make you a deal. I know your type. I've seen you a hundred times over on a dozen different bases. You've been busy, I'd guess. You spent last night getting laid and getting in fights…and not really caring who you fuck or fight." I blinked in shock and wondered who her daddy was, because she sure wasn't old enough to have been an Army wife long enough to have seen a dozen duty stations. "Keep that dick in your pants for two months and don't fuck anything except your own hand, then look me up and we'll talk."

The filthy words coming out of that angelic mouth were enough to make me speechless. She was already twenty feet away when I realized I had no fucking clue how to find her. "Hey! How do I find you?"

She whirled around and laughed. "Not that you'll need to, but my daddy is an MP. His name is Swan." Then she shot me the bird. "Have a nice life!"

And that's when I knew I was in love.

I didn't know her name, but I knew she was tough, opinionated, and would always call me on my bullshit. I knew I wouldn't get away with anything. She'd infuriate and tempt me beyond my limits. We'd yell and fight and kiss and make up. She would make me absolutely insane. What more could a man ask? I abstained for two long months, even though my friends thought I was insane. Somehow, I knew she'd find out. There was no way in hell I was letting her go without a fight. So I kept it in my pants as she'd directed. It was easier than I would have thought, because my dick only wanted _her_. A buddy of mine found out that Bella was home from college for the summer. She only had two weeks left by the time my two month sentence was up, but I found her and asked her to make good on her promise.

She did.

We had two crazy weeks during which time I never got further than a little over the clothes petting on her breasts. We talked to each other almost every night for the next three months and then she was home for Christmas. I got a little further in my advances, but still never hit a home run. For the next six months, we did the long distance thing. I'd drive out to see her as often as I could or she'd come home. Her daddy only had to warn me once that if I hurt her I wouldn't live to regret it. I believed him. Charlie Swan was a man of his word.

We were married almost a year to the day after we met. Her mom cried and her dad pretended not to. Her brother welcomed me to the family. I liked Will, even though I never understood him.

A year later, Emmett was born and then it seemed every two years we were making the run to the maternity ward of whatever base hospital we were near. All of them except Jake arrived with little fuss. But that's another story.

Now, thinking about my wife and family and knowing that I'd give anything to be back home with them, I realized one important fact. The Army had saved my life; but Bella had saved my soul. I was the one who had failed us. I had let my mistaken notions of duty interfere with my primary goal in life – to make Bella happy. All of the reasons for coming back here that had seemed so compelling now evaporated into dust and been blown away. It had been arrogant of me to think that no one but me could do my job. I was good, but not irreplaceable. The Army had a thousand guys just like me, capable of doing what I did. But Bella and the boys – they only had me.

God, I had some kissing up to do. I was a lucky man because at least Bella had promised me that she'd be waiting for me and we'd work all of it out after I got home. I hadn't deserved that much, but she'd given it to me freely. That was Bella. And I was me. What a fuck up. It seemed that my whole life I was trying to make right on some wrong I'd done. With Bella, though, I felt as if I had a shot at being the man I wanted to be, the man she deserved. So I'd fix this, because it was the right thing to do. For her.

I just had to get through the next year and then we'd start living the life I had promised her. I would make good on that promise. We'd live wherever she wanted to live. Hell, we'd have more babies if that's what she wanted. I'd work a nine-to-five job that brought me home every night. Tonight, I'd sit down and tell her that. Maybe I'd even get lucky enough to find a computer with a web cam, though those were as rare as fucking ice cubes out here.

"James!" A voice called. "We're up!"

It was our turn to patrol and my heart just wasn't in it. I had screwed up and I wanted to make it right. I _would_ make it right, because that's what Bella deserved.

It's funny how everything turned to shit in a split second. We're riding along in the Humvee. It's routine, nothing spectacular or exciting. Murphy was up front yawning, the lazy ass. He was still pissed that we'd hauled him out of the latrine to go on patrol. I was in the back, keeping an eye out behind us. And ahead of us. Hell, we all needed eyes in the front, back, and sides of our heads. We needed to be fucking psychics. We drove along and up ahead I saw the carcass of a dead dog. And that tingle started…

I felt the driver slowing down and I knew that he felt what I did. This was wrong. It was all just…_wrong_. You get a feel for these things after a while. You learn to listen to that little voice in your head because it usually saved your ass.

Then there was a concussion of sound and I watched as Murphy disappeared in a cloud of red mist. Murphy was no more. I felt a sharp, stinging pain in my side but I ignored it. The Humvee was flying through the air like the fucking scariest roller coaster in the world and I felt myself go weightless. It was Bella's face that flashed before my eyes and that made sense because _she _was my whole life. I knew I wouldn't get the chance to make things right.

"Bella…I'm so sor-"


	4. Chapter 4: Close Calls, Bella & Mac

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#4 Close Calls**

_**July 27, 2000**_

It was the pain that woke me up. For a moment, it took my breath away. Then I began breathing again, much too quickly but almost silently. Beside me, Mac was sleeping soundly. I wanted to hit him for that alone but I was in too much pain to move. I gave him the evil eye as I tried to catch my breath so that I could whack him just one good one. When I finally was able to sit up though, it was enough to rouse Mac too. He was a light sleeper, any unexpected movement or sound could awaken him. It made him an invaluable baby monitor. Our three boys had given him lots of practice. I anticipated that number four would do the same.

"Bella, sweetie?" he asked. "What is it? Is it the baby?" Mac was ready. He hadn't woken up groggy or confused or out of it. He had sort of been expecting a wake up call for the past week or so. He kept eyeing me like a bomb that could go off at any minute. I sort of was, I guess. The bags were packed, the car's tank was full, and the whole household was on standby.

We had done the whole midnight rush to the hospital thing before. And the early-afternoon rush (he had made part of the trip in a tank, but that's another story), and even the rush hour dash. We were experienced; nothing could throw us for a loop. We were veterans after all. This was baby number four.

That's why I was so surprised that I was actually scared. I looked at Mac, who was staring back at me with a concerned look on his face. He put his hand on my belly. "Are you having contractions?" He grabbed at his watch, always three inches from the far edge of the bedside table. "How far apart?" He asked as he studied his watch. It was illuminated and he had gone into "coach" mode. I sighed and wanted to laugh, but I hurt too much.

The baby wasn't due for two weeks but we both knew that didn't mean anything. Babies showed up when they were ready, not before or after. They didn't have calendars in there after all. Our boys seemed particularly unreliable as far as due dates. Not one had even shown up within a week of the expected date – always coming either late (Emmett) or early (Sam and Seth).

Then the pain grew worse, but I noted that it hadn't eased off at all, not even when it should have. It had been several minutes and the pain had gotten worse if anything.

So…not a contraction then.

"No," I muttered. "Not that." I hissed as the pain grew steadily worse and my instincts told me that something was terribly, terribly wrong. "Mac…we've got to go to the hospital." I took in a deep breath. "Now."

Mac knew me well enough not to argue. I wasn't one to run to the hospital for every little twinge, even when I'd been pregnant the first time. In fact, we'd almost _not_ made it to the hospital because I didn't want to show up only to be sent home. I'd heard the horror stories and was determined not to make the drive back home again without a baby in the car seat. Emmett arrived a scant thirty minutes after our arrival and about ten minutes after I'd been settled into a birthing room. A nurse had caught him – all nine pounds of him.

"Something's wrong…" I ground my teeth and tried to move my legs out of the bed. "Shit, shit, shit."

Mac chuckled even though I could tell he was worried. He picked up the phone and called Theresa, our next door neighbor. She had volunteered to come over and stay with the kids if I went into labor at night. Once he'd gotten in touch with her, he picked up the bag I had packed just two days ago and then grabbed some sweats and a tee shirt. Of course they said Army. Then he was handing me a soft maternity shirt that said "Little Soldier in the Tank" (it had been Mac's idea of funny) and some lightweight cotton pants. I was always hot so sweats were out, especially in July.

"Come on, sweetheart," he said softly. "Let's get you out to the car." Then he lifted me up in his arms and I swatted him on his chest.

"You'll give yourself a hernia," I protested. He huffed and pretended to stagger. I hit him again.

By that time, Theresa was at the door. I gave her a shaky smile. "You're pale, Bella," she said quietly. She turned to Mac. ""Don't waste time."

Mac settled me into the passenger seat and ran around the SUV and hopped in. The engine roared to life and we were backing out of the driveway. I doubled over and moaned. "OH…_fuck_…" This pain was unbearable. It was not the normal ebb and flow, the gradually building pain of labor. This agony felt as if it was illuminating my belly in fire.

There was a rush of fluid and I hissed in annoyance. We'd only had the SUV for six months. "I think my water just broke."

Out of instinct, our eyes went to the seat. Even in the dim light of the streetlamps, we both saw it.

Not amniotic fluid. Blood.

I started crying. Mac uttered a muffled curse and hit the gas pedal harder. "Hold on," he ordered, his voice tight and tense.

He squealed to a stop at the base hospital, not bothering to do more than to screech to a resting place at the emergency entrance. He was lifting me up in his arms again and under the bright lights I could see with alarming clarity just how much blood there was.

_Jacob_…

Then there was a rush of activity with nurses and doctors moving in a confusing dance around me. Mac settled me on a gurney and I noticed the blood all over his tee-shirt. I'd never get that stain out…

Rush, rush, rush…. Up in the elevator, zooming through the doors of the maternity ward. A quick pass of the ultrasound even as I heard them to prepare OR 2. Operating room? Mac leaned down and whispered. "Everything will be all right, sweetheart. I promise. I'll be waiting for you when you get out."

Something was stabbing into my arm. An IV. I hated those things and I felt the nausea well up within me. Something cold rushed through my veins. Floating.

"Mac?" I managed to squeeze out his name. "Baby?"

His big, callused hands were brushing back my hair. So tender and gentle. "He's fine, sweetheart. He's…"

Everything faded gently to black, like someone pulling a shade.

A moment later I woke up. Or maybe a week later. I wasn't sure. I didn't much care. My mouth was dry and my stomach felt as if I'd been hit by a truck. I groaned and there was Mac, leaning over me with anxiety etched into his handsome face. "Water?" I begged.

He held up a straw to my lips. "Not too much," he warned. I frowned at him. I could drink a gallon and it wouldn't be enough. Far too soon he pulled the cup away.

"More," I demanded.

"In a minute. I don't want you to barf."

I rolled my eyes. I leaned back and then it hit me. My hands flew to my belly. Flat. I turned my head. No bassinet. The tears started.

"No, Bells, sweetie, he's fine. Jacob is fine. I promise. They've just kept him in the nursery for observation but he's fine. Perfectly healthy…they said he'd be ready to bring up to you as soon as you were awake and feeling up to it."

"I'm up to it," I insisted and started to sit up. Big mistake. Fire licked across my belly.

"Bells, you had a cesarean. You're recovering from surgery. You're not going to be bouncing around like you did after the others." His eyes twinkled. He had always teased me about my quick recovery after childbirth, said he wasn't sure it was fair to other women, that it gave them unrealistic expectations for their own recovery.

"I have a feeling this time will make up for the others," I grunted as I tried to wriggle around enough to get comfortable without setting off the conflagration again.

"I've been into see him several times," Mac assured me. "He's just perfect."

The door opened and a nurse was bringing in a bassinet, a tiny, tightly wrapped bundle inside. I felt my body begin to relax. This was my baby, my Jacob. I smiled up at Mac as the nurse handed him to me and checked our ID bracelets against each other. Yes, he was mine. I'd know him anywhere and my hands were impatient to learn the feel of him.

She settled his reassuring warmth in my arms. "Keep him wrapped," she instructed. They always said that, but his little lips weren't blue and his face wasn't mottled. He was having no temperature adjustment problems. I would consider her comment a _suggestion_. And as Jacob's mother, my wishes trumped her suggestions.

As soon as the door was closed, I whipped away the blankets and revealed his tiny, sturdy body to my wondering gaze. Long legs ending in big feet, long slender fingers and toes… "He's going to be tall," I murmured. Dark, dark hair and a lot of it, standing up comically around his head. A tiny rosebud mouth, plump honey colored cheeks…perfect. I brushed his cheek and he immediately turned toward the touch. "His father's appetite," I teased and Mac laughed.

With Mac's help I settled Jacob on my breast and he was soon sucking contentedly. He seemed to be much better at it than the other boys. I played with his hair as he nursed but he didn't seem to mind. "Does he cry as loud as Emmett?' I asked. Emmett had surprised even the experienced nursery nurses. They had kept him in our room a lot. We never had to ask for Emmett. They had volunteered him with unflattering eagerness.

Mac shrugged. "I dunno…" He smiled and his blue eyes glimmered with laughter.

"What do you mean?"

Smiling, Mac leaned down and kissed the top of Jake's head. "I haven't heard him cry yet."

**~THTF~**

Later the doctor came in and told me that I had had a placental abruption, meaning that the placenta had started to tear away from the uterine wall before Jake was born. That had been the cause of the horrific pain and the bleeding. "You're very lucky you got here so quickly. If you'd hesitated or lived farther away…" He shook his head and didn't go on, but I got the picture.

We were lucky that Jake was alive.

I took a nap and so did Jake. He snoozed away in his little bed and I pretty much passed out. Then they brought me something that was supposed to be food. I knew that Mac would remember to bring me something real and substantial – as long it was soft. Stupid diet restrictions. Late in the afternoon, the door opened again and there were my boys – all of them.

Sam toddled in first, just barely two. Thank heavens he had potty trained early. I wouldn't have two in diapers this time. His big eyes were wide and curious as he hesitantly approached me. I smiled and held out my hands in invitation.

"Be careful boys, remember what I told you," Mac called out quietly.

"Mama gots a boo boo?" Sam asked, tilting his head as he studied me.

"Yes, I have a boo boo, but I feel so much better with my Samster here," I said.

Seth peered into the bassinet, studied his newest brother and then shrugged. Babies weren't of particular interest to him. "He's kinda small," he finally observed.

"He'll grow," Mac assured him.

Seth thought that over and then nodded. "Okay."

Emmett sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, being very careful not to jostle it. I smiled my thanks and he shrugged. He was already tall for his age. I thought eventually he might rival Mac's height. "You feel okay, Mom?" he asked.

"I feel better," I said.

He nodded and then turned to study Jacob. It took them all a few minutes but soon they were talking as they always did, making observations about Jake (not all of the complimentary but that's how brothers operated) and watching me eat the food that Mac had – luckily for him – remembered to bring. I couldn't eat anything too substantial yet, but even pudding tasted better from home than from the hospital. I don't know how they managed to screw_ that_ up, but they did.

I asked Mac to get the camera out of my bag. He took a few shots of the boys and Jake, then me holding Jake. A nurse popped her head in and offered to take a picture of all of us and I jumped at the chance. Complete family portraits were hard to get.

Mac leaned in close and the boys all hammed it up for the camera. They all pulled away a bit and just left their hands on Jake's blanket. Mac whispered, "Thank you for our boys, Bella…" I smiled as I looked at Jake and the nurse snapped a picture.

Later, when we had them processed that one shot turned out to be my favorite. Mac's eyes hadn't been on Jake at all, which surprised me. I hadn't realized it at the time. He was staring at me and he looked as in love as he had on our wedding day. I looked tired and pale, but not too bad considering. And the sight of those three small hands on Jake's blanket got me a little teary, but in a good way.

I put it up in the hallway, where we kept the family pictures up on the wall. I liked to walk down the hallway and see my boys, their beloved faces smiling down at me.

I loved my life. I never wanted anything to change.


	5. Chapter 5: It's Tradition!

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#5 It's Tradition!**

"_**Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal." ~From a headstone in Ireland**_

**~THTF~**

I woke up wondering why I felt that familiar vague feeling of dread. Oh. Right. Mac wasn't coming home. It was funny how it snuck up on me sometimes. Some mornings I woke up already crying, the realization of his death having invaded my dreams so that even sleep didn't bring peace. Sometimes I was given the gift of about ten seconds of forgetfulness when I first woke up. Sometimes not. For the first time in my life, I understood why some people drowned their grief in alcohol or drugs. It was tempting. But I had the boys, so I had to hold myself together.

There were days I did that by the skin of my teeth and five minutes at a time.

Today was going to be one of those days; I already knew that. It was Friday, November 17th. Mac would have turned 38 today. This would be the first birthday without him. Oh, he'd been away on his birthday before, but we had always known we'd celebrate it in traditional James style when he returned, no matter what the calendar said.

Not this year. Not any year after this. Mac had no more birthdays left. I sighed and forced myself to get out of bed. I could hear the boys moving around in their rooms. Usually by this time they'd be up and yelling at each other and I'd hear thumps and bumps I didn't want to know the origins of. But it had been months since they had done that. Since July 4th, at 0615 to be exact. Mac had died at 0735 local Baghdad time. It still struck me as terribly wrong that I had slept through his death, that I hadn't sensed him leaving me. I should have sensed him dying, shouldn't I? But I knew to the minute when the men had knocked on my door to tell me that my world had changed.

Sometimes it sucked to know exactly the moment when your life fell apart.

As I dressed mechanically, pulling back my hair and ignoring the make-up that still rested uselessly on the vanity, I wondered how best to handle this day. It didn't seem right to ignore it, and I didn't want to anyway. The boys were very aware of the date. I had seen Emmett's Sports Illustrated Swimsuit calendar with the date circled in bright blue. That calendar was new; it had replaced the Army one he had had in the early summer.

Before Mac's death, Emmett had insisted that he was going to be a soldier when he grew up too. He had had the recruiting posters on his walls, pictures his father had taken on his wall of Iraqi streets and the Iraqi people, posters of the huge military vehicles that were such a part of the life, even pictures of the small tent cities that the soldiers lived in. He'd proudly displayed a camp flag Mac had brought back from his first deployment. Emmett lived and breathed the Army. He was fascinated with all things military. Or he had been. Mac's death had changed a lot of things. Suddenly, Emmett didn't talk about enlisting when he graduated high school or what MOS* he'd like the most. No, Emmett didn't talk about much of anything these days.

When we moved, all of those things had been quietly put away and various posters of women had replaced them. Was it to be expected at this age? Or was it the direct result of his father's death? Maybe a combination of the two factors? Still, I was unaccustomed to seeing all that cleavage in my son's room. I still wasn't sure how I felt about the change, but I didn't mention it. I figured if he wanted to discuss it he would let me know. Emmett was a lot like Mac, quiet about his deepest feelings. He always had to take time to process things, to think them through. Still waters and all that.

There was a tentative knock on my door and I heard it open. That knock meant Jake. I turned to see him smiling shyly at me. Jake wasn't shy at all, so that smile meant he wanted to ask me something. He was laying on the charm. Thick. He was an expert after all.

"What'cha want, Jakey?" I used the now hated nickname to get him riled up.

He reacted exactly as I hoped he would, scowling at me with his dark brows pulled together. "Aw, Mom. I told you and told you…don't call me that!" I ruffled his hair, which he hated too. He smoothed it down and glared at me.

"Emmett and Seth and Sam and me want to know if we can make a cake?" His voice was perfectly confident until he hit that last word. I knew the cake was for their father, of course. We should have baked one last night but I hadn't been sure of how to handle this day. I guess my boys were going to show me the way, as they had done so many times over the last few months. It was humbling sometimes to realize that the kids had a better handle on this whole thing than I did.

I smiled and knelt down in front of him, cradling his handsome little face in my hands. "I think that's a great idea, Jake." He looked relieved. They were so afraid of causing me more pain, when actually they were all that got me through each and every day.

I took his hand and we walked down to the kitchen together. The three other boys were assembled there, the looks on their faces both anxious and determined. "So…what kind of cake are we going to bake?" I asked and they all four began laughing and making outrageous suggestions.

Finally, Sam spoke up. "There's really only one kind of cake to make today," he observed. My solemn little boy. Even now, he was quieter than his brothers, his smile not quite as wide. He'd always been my "old soul."

"And what kind is that?" I asked, though I thought I already knew.

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head at me. "Chocolate chocolate, of course!"

That was his father's favorite, so of course Sam was right. "I think you're right."

Together, we assembled the ingredients. The kitchen was a disaster after the whole process, as expected. Seth had a huge smear of chocolate cake batter across his forehead, Jake was wearing a huge chocolate smile, and Emmett's shirt was spattered with batter from where Sam had aimed the mixer at him with devastating accuracy. Sam remained pretty clean, but had a smug and satisfied grin on his face. I suspected he was responsible for much of his brothers' messiness.

Once the cakes were in the oven and the aroma of chocolate cake filled the house, the boys and I cleaned up the kitchen. "What's next?" I asked when the counters were all clean and the last dish washed.

"Uh…" Seth paused and his eyes darted toward his brothers. "We were wondering if we could uh…maybe…uh…watch what Dad would have wanted to watch?" Another part of the James' Birthday Tradition – total remote control _control – _or TRCC as the boys called it. They'd picked up the Army habit of acronyms. Sometimes it drove me mad. Sometimes I found comfort in it now. This was, however, the ultimate power, as Mac had liked to say. I laughed, part of me shocked that I could think of Mac and still laugh, and I nodded.

"But you know, first we need to go the grocery store and get the stuff for…" I paused and tapped my finger on my lips as if I was thinking very hard. "Hmmm….what should we cook tonight?"

"Chicken parmesan!" Jake yelled, jumping up and down. "Yay!" His father's favorite, and always his request for his birthday meal.

Emmett frowned at him, obviously wondering if Jake's enthusiasm was going to bother me. I decided that I needed to face the problem directly. It wasn't fair to make them guess anymore. So I sat down at the breakfast bar and indicated for them to take the other four stools. The huge breakfast bar had been one of the reasons I bought the house. We needed the room.

"Listen, guys, I've been a little unfair to you all."

Seth frowned and Sam opened his mouth to protest. I held up my hand they both settled down. "No, I have. I was worried that I would hurt you by making a big deal out of Daddy's birthday, when in fact I ended up hurting you by making you guess how we should handle it. So I say we take a vote. We're the James family, and we do this together. No matter what. Right?" I got four emphatic nods.

"Everyone gets a vote," I said.

"What if there's a tie?" Jake asked.

"Doofus," Emmett mocked. "There's five of us. How can there be a tie?"

"I was just asking…" Jake grumbled.

"Enough," I admonished them gently. "Okay," I said. "Our choices are to do everything we'd normally do for Daddy's birthday or just pretend it's like any other day. You can vote how you feel, but I think that chocolate cake in the oven is proof that we'd all like to remember Daddy on his special day. I know I would, but we'll let majority rule…so you vote how you want – no questions asked." I looked at my oldest son. "Emmett?"

"Dad's day, we do it his way," he said softly, his voice sounding husky, cracking slightly at the end.

"Seth?"

"I say we do it like we've always done it."

I nodded and turned to Sam. "What about you Samster?"

"It seems wrong to ignore it," he replied quietly. "So…" he shrugged. "That's how Dad would have wanted it. He wouldn't want us to be sad." I was once again struck by Sam's maturity and wisdom. Sometimes I felt like he was leading _me_ through this nightmare.

I turned to Jake, who surprised me by smiling widely. "Dad's day, Dad's way. It's tradition!"

And that settled the matter once and for all.

_**The next outtake will be Bella's POV of her first meeting with Edward. At last.**_ :p

_**Here's a sneak peek at it:**_

"Hello?"

"Uh…Mrs. James?" A stranger's voice, velvety and melodic.

"Yes," I replied. Surely this wasn't a sales call, but if it was I just might buy whatever Mr. Smooth was selling. I might buy two.


	6. Chapter 6: Soldier Boy

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephanie Meyers. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#6 Soldier Boy**

I sighed as the door slammed behind Emmett. That seemed to be the soundtrack of our lives these days. At times I wanted to shake him until his teeth rattled, but usually I just wanted to hug him tight and tell him that he didn't have to try so damned hard to keep it together. Emmett had only cried twice since Mac died, at least where I could see him. The second time had been the day we put his father in the ground. When they'd handed me the flag, that's when I'd seen the tears finally slide down his cheeks. The _first_ time he'd cried had been late at night the day they'd shown up at the door to give us the news.

He had waited until he thought his brothers and I were asleep. Somehow, I don't think any of us actually slept that night – or for many others to come.

Still, here we were two years later and I was starting to worry that this new Emmett, this angry resentful boy/man was here to stay. I didn't know how to reach him, and none of the counselors we had seen at the military's suggestion had done much good. Oh, they knew their jobs, they knew all of the right words to say, but they didn't know _Emmett_. I knew my son. I knew the ways he was like his father; I knew the ways he was like me. But most of all, I knew how he was just like himself, my Emmett.

I went outside to see if I could tell which way he went. But Emmett was long gone. Jake was sitting on the front porch and he looked up at me. "He took his bike," he said. His small face was pinched in anxiety.

I sat down beside Jake and pulled him into my side. "Yeah," I replied. "I think your brother is mad at me."

Jake shook his head. "No, Emmett's just mad." Wise words for a seven year old, but essentially true.

"Yes, he's mad," I agreed and sighed. "Come on, let's go inside," I suggested.

"I'm gonna wait out here for Em," he said, blinking up at me. "Is that okay?"

I smiled and ruffled his hair. He scowled but didn't straighten it, a testament to how upset he knew I was over Emmett.

"Okay, kiddo," I told him. "You know I love you, right?"

Jake rolled his eyes at me, but he grinned widely. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm a great kid."

Laughing, I got to my feet and brushed off my hands. "That you are, Jake."

Two hours later and Emmett still wasn't home. It was evening now, and though the days were longer now that it was May, I was getting anxious. I was starting to wish I had gotten him the cell phone he'd been campaigning for me to buy him for the last month. After all, he told me, he "couldn't start high school without one!" I had disagreed, but now I wondered if that had been a good decision. At least if he had a cell I could get in touch with him now. Or at least _try_, as I wouldn't put it past Emmett to ignore my calls. Once more, I looked out the window and down the street, hoping to see him racing toward the house on his bike. I'd be a nervous wreck when he could actually drive a car – in less than two years.

"I'm not ready for that, Mac," I whispered. I missed him all the time, but it was at moments like this that the void became a physical ache. Being a single parent was…difficult. A few months ago, a divorced colleague had started complaining about trying to be a parent and be single. She seemed to think our situations were exactly alike. I had wanted to point out that she could at least call her ex and get his input on their kids. Mac was never going to help me figure any of this out again. I had wanted to scream, but instead I had nodded and then packed away my lunch and escaped to my classroom. Sometimes people were idiots.

Then the phone rang and I jumped to get it. Maybe Emmett had gone to a friend's house and was calling to let me know. _R_i_ght…because he just loves to talk to you_….

"Hello?"

"Uh…Mrs. James?" A stranger's voice, velvety and melodic.

"Yes," I replied. Surely this wasn't a sales call, but if it was I just might buy whatever Mr. Smooth was selling. I might buy two.

"I'm here with your son." Well…shit, that wasn't good. "Uh…with your son Emmett." Of course it was Emmett. He was the only one not here, but more importantly he was the only one who would have managed to get himself into some kind of trouble so quickly. And I could tell it was trouble not tragedy that had prompted the call. Mother's intuition for the win, I thought.

"What did he do this time?" I just wanted to cry. In fact, I was hoping I could find a few minutes to escape to the bathroom and have a little breakdown. I wanted one and damn it, I deserved one. If a widow with four kids isn't entitled to a little sulk session, then who was?

I just couldn't seem to get it right with Emmett. If I showed him how much I cared, he retreated as if I was smothering him. Of course, there's a reason that you only have to add one letter to make 'mothering' into 'smothering.' It comes with the territory. Still, I tried to restrain myself. Most of the time.

"Well, he threw a rock or something off the overpass and cracked my windshield." The stranger sounded annoyed, and I couldn't blame him. Just then Jake and Seth came racing into the house so I covered up the phone (no need to aggravate Mr. Smooth any more) and yelled at them to be quiet. They immediately settled down into shocked silence. I gave them a gratified sniff and turned back to the conversation.

"Listen, it's not so much the damage, but he could have really hurt someone-"

"No, no, you're absolutely right to call me," I assured him. I looked at the boys. Sam was probably curled up with a book somewhere in the house (the kid could find nooks and crannies like a ninja). Jake would be bouncing on the seat like a jumping bean at the idea of Emmett in trouble. Seth would just be…patient. It would be easier to have Mr. Smooth bring Emmett to me, if he was willing. "Uh, listen I can't leave right now. Is there any way you could bring him home and we'll settle up the damages?" I hesitated, hoping he would go along with it. "I hate to ask, it's just that-"

"Sure," he agreed easily enough and I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he would let me make this right.

I told Jake and Seth that a gentleman would be bringing Emmett home because Emmett had apparently caused some damage to the man's car. Jake hooted with laughter until I told him to settle down and that it wasn't funny. Seth rolled his eyes and went off in search of Sam – probably to tell on Emmett. Brothers really don't cut each other any slack when it comes to getting in trouble.

Emmett William James was in a hell of a lot of trouble when he got home. He might not be off restriction by the time he could get that damned driver's license and it would be one less thing for me to worry about. I sat on the couch and chewed on my finger nails. How _could_ he? He could have really hurt someone. Or worse… I wanted to cry but I didn't want the stranger to see me with a red nose and bloodshot eyes. I had_ some_ pride left… Not much, but still…

Jake was keeping watch at the window. He was better than a guard dog and kept me apprised of any happenings in the neighborhood. He reminded me of the nosey neighbor on Bewitched, except he was much cuter and his interest was innocent. He just liked people and enjoyed watching them.

"He's here!" Jake called out. "He's with a _soldier_!" There was a hint of awe in Jake's voice, which was strange considering he'd been around the military his whole life. Soldiers were, according to Jake, the defenders of all that was good and just and right. As far as he was concerned, they might as well wear Superman capes.

Then all three boys were tumbling out the door, though Sam stopped just outside and waited for me.

I heard Jake call Emmett a stupid head. It was nice to see that some things never changed. Then Jake took one look at the windshield and muttered something about Emmett being in deep shit. It figured. Jake picked up on everything I'd rather he didn't hear. I guessed it was all part of his fascination with the rest of the human race. I gave him "the look" and he had the grace to look ashamed. We'd be discussing that little incident later, but at the moment I had bigger problems. Emmett.

The only thing that kept me from screaming at him was the fact that he looked ashamed and sick. Good. If he'd tried to pull off cocky I wasn't sure if I could be held responsible for my actions.

"Boys…" They all turned toward me.

Then I made the mistake of looking at Mr. Smooth. I couldn't speak for a moment. I wanted to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. You just don't see guys that good looking in real life, standing in your driveway with your juvenile delinquent son in tow. Well, not in _my _world anyway.

I closed my mouth, knowing that I probably looked like a dying fish. Why oh why hadn't I put on some makeup? Oh that's right…because I'm a widow and haven't looked at a man since Mac died with anything even approaching lust. Sex was a no-go, out my realm of expectations. I never thought I'd meet a man who'd make me wish I'd taken some time with my appearance ever again. He looked at me with green eyes that seemed to see right through me. He seemed almost as surprised as I was, and I wondered if he was expecting an Amazon to be Emmett's mother. I got that a lot. No one ever thinks I'm tall enough to be Emmett's mom, especially when they find out he's only fourteen and already pushing six feet tall.

"I'm Bella James," I said, finally getting actual words past my throat. "And I'm terribly sorry for what happened." I looked at Emmett, who had the sense to look ashamed. "I can assure you that full reparations will be made."

I felt his eyes on me like he was touching me. It left me confused…uneasy…and something else I couldn't identify. It had been so long. This fluttery uncertain feeling inside of me…could it be…attraction? When I'd met Mac, I had thought he was cute. On our second meeting, when he had met the absolutely ludicrous conditions I'd put on him to date me, I had known we would end up together. My reaction to this man, however, was more visceral, as if something inside of me called out to something in him.

I wanted to trace the elegant line of his jaw with my tongue, to taste the lightly tanned flesh of his throat. I wanted to count the freckles that dotted his cheek and to find out if the slight hint of red I saw in his short hair was echoed in his beard. And other places.

Shit.

I couldn't afford to feel this…whatever this was. I had four sons to raise, and a man that looked like this one definitely didn't need to scrape the bottom of the dating barrel by going for a widow with _four_ kids. I had nothing to offer him, and I needed to get any errant thoughts out of my head and now.

"Perhaps we should talk inside?" he offered in that honey and smoke voice.

I swallowed hard and nodded. I pointed to Emmett. "You. To your room. And none of you bother him either. He's got some serious thinking to do."

Jake had to add his two cents' worth. "_That's _gonna take some time." Must. Not. Laugh. That was the hazard in raising Jake, letting his wit make you lose track of the task at hand.

Seth started to bitch but I put that to rest immediately. I needed to get inside. I needed to gather my composure. I needed to see Mac's picture on the mantle so that I could remember all of the reasons why I had no business coveting this beautiful man. I gave the boys orders, and threatened them too. I was too tired and off-balance to do much more.

I turned to him. "Please, come in." I paused. I couldn't call him Mr. Smooth. "Uh...?"

He smiled then. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm Edward Cullen."

Once we were inside, I offered him some coffee. Yes, I know my son just shattered your windshield, but would a cup of Folgers make us even? _Oh, Emmett_…

I got back to the living room and I saw him looking at the flag and the picture. He turned to face me and instead of the pity I dreaded seeing on his face, I saw only gentle understanding. He knew we were broken. He understood. We talked about Emmett and the arrangements to pay for the windshield, and even if I wasn't completely comfortable with them, I could see Edward's point.

When he left, I closed the door behind him and leaned against it, taking a moment to relive the few minutes we'd spent together. Getting to know him just a little better had not alleviated the need inside of me at all. If anything, it had spurred it on, grown it, increased it, given it more space inside of me.

_Why couldn't he have been an ass?_ That would have made dealing with his beautiful face, that velvet voice and smoking hot body _so_ much easier. Hopefully he hadn't seen me wiping the drool from my chin.

I wasn't good enough for him, and if I ever hinted that I found him attractive he would run as far away and as fast as he could. With good reason. It wasn't just my family that was broken; it was me.

I'd accept his help with Emmett and keep my feelings to myself. There was no need to sully what was an act of kindness on his part by acting inappropriately. Then when the debt had been paid, he would say good-bye.

And I would never see him again.

It was better that way. But the want and longing inside of me did not abate.

"Oh Mac….what am I going to do?" It didn't feel odd to ask him, even about this. We had been best friends forever.

_Be happy, sweetheart. That's what you're going to do_.


	7. Chapter 7: Your Heart Has Room

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**Author's Note: This is set after Bella's first kiss with Edward.**

**#7 Your Heart Has Room**

Edward had left and I had showered like an automaton. Wash. Rinse. Dry. There was comfort in the mind numbing routine. I didn't have to_ think_.

God I was tired of thinking.

I sighed as I reviewed my wardrobe options. Sweats and a tee-shirt? Nope, not in this heat. Okay, so shorts and a tank top it was. Hardly alluring attire. Briefly, I wondered if I should consider buying something more…well more woman vs. mom.

I really was too young to embrace the idea of granny panties. That was the problem, though. I _felt_ old…ancient. I felt as I had buried my youth with Mac. When he had left me, he had taken some vital of me along with him. I was so lonely that sometimes it was a physical ache inside of me.

I got into my bed and stretched out across it sideways because I didn't have to leave room for anyone else now, did I?

It was still too big. Too cold. Too empty.

When had my bed grown too big for my life?

I suspected it had been the day that Edward Cullen walked into my world.

In the beginning, right after Mac died, the bed had been _huge_. Then, as I came to some sort of acceptance that he was gone forever, I had grown used to the bed again. One of the widows at one of those god-awful meetings had suggested I buy a new bed. A fresh start, she called it. I hadn't been sure whether I wanted to scream or laugh at her suggestion.

A fresh start? There was no such thing. No matter how far or how fast I ran, Mac would never be with me again. He wasn't coming home. A new bed wasn't going to change that fact. But this old bed… Well it was Mac and it was me. So I'd held onto the bed where we had made Jacob, the bed where we had made love for the very last time.

Given Mac's height, a king sized bed had been only natural. I had liked the vast expanse of it; it gave me room to escape his body heat in the summer, plenty of room to snuggle up close to his warmth in the winter. Mac had been a sprawler, taking up all of his room and a lot of mine. I didn't mind, because I knew how lucky I was to have him home.

And I always knew that nights were coming when I would be wishing for his big body to be hogging the bed. So I learned to sleep curled up and cozy, secure in the knowledge that he was there beside me. Even when I thought I'd die from his body heat, I had known enough to realize that I was lucky to have him with me. I had never really thought that the day would come when he'd never, ever be there again. I was used to the waiting game, but this was…something else again entirely. There had always been Mac. He had been it for me from the moment I met him. We worked well together, putting up with each other's little foibles and eccentricities.

He learned to sleep with the fan on, summer or winter, so that I could have the white noise. I had learned to sleep with a heater in my bed – Mac was as warm as the sun. Compromise. It's what made a marriage work, and ours had, for the most part. Yes, we'd hit bumps in the road. We had fought and argued and slammed doors and bruised each other's feelings.

But we'd always been able to eventually put aside our differences and find a middle ground. We had learned the fine art of compromise. It had never failed us, until the very end. I hoped that we would have found a way past that too. He would have realized how I felt about his deployment and I would have found someway to understand his point of view too.

That's how we worked. That was what made our marriage successful.

I couldn't bear to consider that we might not have worked things out because nothing in our history made that logical. So I held onto that optimistic assurance that we would have negotiated our way through those troubled waters as well.

But there was nothing I could do about that now. Mac was dead. I was not. And for the first time, I wondered if I had the courage to actually _live_ the life I had left, rather than just exist. Existing for my sons was noble and selfless, but the life of a martyr was a lonely thing. Besides, putting the pressure for my happiness on them wasn't fair to any of us.

So the question remained… Did I dare to try and build a life after Mac?

Was it unbearably selfish of me to want that? And I did want it. I could finally admit that to myself here, in the dark, in this too big, too cold bed. I wanted to hear the murmur of a masculine voice in the middle of the night, his arms wrapped around me. I longed to feel the lean strength of a man's chest as I snuggled against him. I desired the hard heat of a man between my legs.

No. Not just _any_ man. _Him_.

Edward.

It had been two years since I held a man in my arms and welcomed him into my bed. What Mac and I shared had been fulfilling and exciting; it had been warm and comfortable too. Like any marriage, our sex life had run the gamut. Sometimes life got in the way of romance and we had to actively seek to renew that connection. Marriages had cycles, hills and valleys that could strengthen or weaken a relationship.

We had weathered the storms and rejoiced in the sunny, easy days that our love provided.

I wanted that again. Was it disloyal to Mac to admit that? To _want _it?

The feel of Edward's lips on mine had brought something hidden to life. That wild spark I thought had died with Mac, that overwhelming need to give and take, to love and be loved.

And what did Edward want?

He desired me. Proof of that had twitched against my belly. But desire wasn't enough. Not for me, not with the life I had. I wouldn't trade my sons for anything, and I knew my first loyalties and responsibility were to them. Could Edward tolerate that? Would he understand it?

Did he have the patience I knew he would need to scale the walls I had built around me in the last two years? Would he even want to be bothered?

"Mac," I whispered. "I'm so confused."

I closed my eyes and curled up like I used to against Mac and I rustled the sheets and I pretended that Mac was climbing into bed with me, wrapping his big, warm arms around me. It didn't seem odd to me to seek his comfort and advice, even in this. When had he ever failed me? Even at that last good-bye, I could see the pain in his eyes, the sorrow. I had just been too hurt to acknowledge it and that was my loss.

I could almost hear Mac's voice whispering in my ear. "What's got you confused, sweetheart?" The low, deep rumble of his voice was comforting.

I sighed and relaxed, leaning against the chest I knew was not there.

"He makes me want things," I admitted. "Things I thought I was done with."

"You're never done with love, Bella," Mac told me. "Love's the only constant. It's the only thing that lasts."

"It doesn't mean I don't love you," I whispered.

"I know that, sweetheart," Mac assured me. "I know I'll always have my place in your heart." Then I felt the breeze from the open window blow over me and it was almost like a caress. I pretended it was. "But you know, that's the wonderful thing about hearts…they expand to include others. There's _always_ room for more love." I felt him shift against me. "Loving someone else doesn't take away love from another."

"What if that isn't what he wants?" That was my biggest fear, the one I could never admit to Edward.

"Then you'll figure that out soon enough, Bells." The trees outside rustled in the wind and it sounded like Mac's laughter. "You always were smart, sweetheart. You'll know, Bella. You'll make the right decision."

Softly, softly the wind blew through my room and I could imagine it was Mac's lips pressed to my hair. "I want to try, Mac…" I was getting sleepy.

"Then try, sweetheart," Mac whispered and I could feel him moving away. Once again, he was leaving me alone with my thoughts and my fears…and my hopes. "Try…" I heard him murmur. "Because your heart has room…"


	8. Chapter 8: The Brothers James

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: This is set the night before Emmett has his little "discussion" with Edward about being uh…**__**intimate **__**with his mother. (Chapters 10 and 11 of The Bigger They Are). Yeah, I'm a big fat liar because this obviously isn't Bella's POV either. **_

**#8 The Brothers James**

Emmett scowled at his youngest brother. "Excuse me, doofus, but did you _see_ how he was looking at her?"

Jake shrugged. "He was just looking at her like he does everyone else, Em." He stuck out his tongue. "You just think you're the boss of everyone."

Seth sighed and put himself between his oldest and youngest siblings. "Not exactly, Jake," he said patiently. "But you're kind of young to know exactly what Emmett means."

Jake frowned at Seth. He hated being reminded of his status as the baby of the family. And his brothers like to throw his age in his face all the time. It wasn't _his_ fault he had been born last. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"He looks at her like…" Emmett breathed deeply. "Like a man looks at a woman."

Jake shook his head. "Isn't that what they are?" He was confused. He hated being confused, especially when it seemed as if his brothers weren't confused at all. "Moms are women, aren't they?" He looked to Sam for confirmation. Sam nodded.

Seth leaned forward on his elbows, his expression morose. "What Em means is that Mr. Edward was looking at mom liked…well, like Dad used to."

Jake considered that for a moment. "Ohhh…" But he really didn't know what that was supposed to mean. Honestly, his memories of his father were starting to get a little…fuzzy. He remembered a big man who had hugged him tightly and always smelled faintly of the outdoors. He remembered small things, like the way he had always stolen bits of food from the pots as his mother cooked, or how he had rested his chin on top of his Mom's head. He had one clear memory of sitting on his father's lap while his Dad read I'll Love You Forever. That book made his mother cry, though he didn't know why. Next to The Five Chinese Brothers that had been his favorite when he was younger. And his father had had a big laugh; it boomed out and filled up the house. Everyone had laughed when his Dad laughed. Jake remembered that quite well. But he couldn't remember how his father had looked at his mother. Emmett was probably just being weird.

"The question is, what are we going to do about it?" Em asked his brothers, looking at each one of them.

Seth thought about it and then shrugged. "I'm not really sure there's anything we _can_ do about it, Emmett."

Sam spoke up for the first time. "Seth's right. Mom's a grown up. We can't exactly tell her what to do."

"I don't like it," Emmett muttered. "Not one little bit."

"Why don't we like Mr. Edward?" Jake asked curiously.

"It's not that we don't like him, Jake," Seth replied.

"Speak for yourself," Emmett grumbled under his breath.

"Then what is it?" Jake pressed.

Emmett sat down beside his brother and ruffled his hair. "Listen, Jake, you're too young to understand this. But if Mr. Edward starts getting too interested in Mom, he's gonna try and take Dad's place."

Jake's expression was thoughtful. Then he looked up at his brothers. "But what if Mom is lonely?"

"She's got us," Emmett said loudly, thumping his chest. "How the hell could she be lonely?"

"You're gonna get in trouble saying that," Jake observed.

Seth pressed his lips together. "Maybe we are being just a little selfish." He sounded unsure.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Emmett snapped.

"Well, I mean Mom is a grown up," Seth said. "That means she might want to…I don't know…hang out with other grown ups."

"She's got people at work for that," Emmett said quickly. "And she talks to Uncle Will and Uncle Josh all the time too."

"But what if that isn't enough?" Seth asked.

"How can that not be enough?" Emmett gaped in disbelief at his brother.

"But what if she wants to…date?" Seth's voice went very quiet on the last word and Jake's mouth fell open.

"You mean like kissing and stuff?" The expression of disgust on Jake's face made his brothers laugh. "Gross."

"Yeah, well in about ten years you won't think it's so gross, buddy," Emmett assured him.

"Oh yes I will," Jake retorted. He shuddered. "It'll always be gross."

"Okay, okay, never mind," Seth interjected. "The kid will learn about that on his own."

"Like you have any idea, Seth" Emmett teased. "None of the girls in your grade even have boobs yet."

"At least I don't spend half an hour in the shower flogging my log," Seth snapped.

"Em takes a stick in the shower?" Jake asked. "Why?"

Seth and Emmett howled with laughter while Jake pouted. Sam just looked put upon. Once again, Jake didn't quite get the joke and he hated that. He couldn't wait to be grown up. Then he'd know _everything_ and his brothers couldn't tease him anymore.

"Never mind, Jake," Emmett said. "You're too young-"

"Yeah, yeah, to understand," Jake muttered. Hadn't he heard_ that_ a million times?

"Don't worry about them, Jake," Sam said. "They're acting like they're better than us because they're older." He leaned in close. "But I'm smarter, so that puts them at a disadvantage."

Jake grinned and bumped fists with his brother. Emmett just shook his head. "Can we get back to business?"

"What business?" Jake asked.

"Mom and this guy…Mr. Edward," Emmett sneered.

"You're just mad because you have to work for him every Saturday," Sam pointed out. Emmett scowled at this reminder. "Just think of it this way, Em," Sam continued. "Mom never would have met him if you hadn't busted his windshield. So this is all your fault."

"Shut up," Emmett snapped.

"The truth hurts, doesn't it?" Sam teased. "Loser," he added under his breath.

Emmett surged to his feet, but Seth was already there between them. "All right, that's not helping anything." He gave Emmett a little push toward his seat. "Now…back to Mom and Mr. Edward."

"I like him," Jake offered. "I don't see what the problem is." He brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his knees. "And he's got a pool," he reminded them helpfully.

"So he's got a pool," Emmett snorted. "Big deal."

"Didn't notice you turning down a swim," Sam noted.

"That's beside the point, moron."

"My IQ says differently," Sam replied.

"You know where you can shove that IQ of yours?" Emmett asked suggestively.

"And we'll never get anything done if you two can't stop pissing each other off," Seth said.

"We need this guy to go away," Emmett said forcefully. "He's bad news."

"Why?" Jake asked.

"Because he is," Emmett replied.

"Why?" Jake asked again.

Emmett rolled his eyes. "Because he _is_, you big doofus, that's why."

"I still don't see why we have to get rid of Mr. Edward. I like him. He makes me hot chocolate the right way."

"That doesn't mean we need him around," Emmett argued. "I don't like the way he looks at Mom."

"Like how?" Jake asked.

"Geez, don't you ever do anything but ask stupid questions?" Emmett said, pushing his face toward Jake.

"You're the stupid one," Jake said, nodding. "You broke the windshield."

"That's not the issue here." Emmett's face was getting red. "Jake, so help me…"

"Stupid head," Jake snapped.

"Guys…" Seth said with ill concealed impatience.

"Listen, this Edward guy is just interested in one thing," Emmett told them.

"What?" Jake asked. "What's he interested in?"

"Never mind," Emmett and Seth said at the same time.

Jake stuck out his tongue. "I'm not gonna get rid of Mr. Edward unless you tell me why we should."

Emmett heaved a sigh and got to his feet, plunking his hands on his hips. "Because he's always looking at Mom like she's an all-you-can-eat buffet and he's been starving for the past ten years."

Jake frowned. "He eats all the time. He had four slices of pizza last night."

"Never mind Jake," Emmett growled. "Let's just say they're obviously doing it and leave it at that."

"Doing what?" Jake asked, clearly puzzled.

Emmett threw his hands up in the air. "I give up. I just give up."

"What did I do?" Jake asked, looking around at his brother's faces.

"Nothing, you can't help it," Seth explained gently. "Don't worry about it sprout."

"Don't call me sprout," Jake yelled. He jumped to his feet and poked Seth in the chest.

"Seriously, forget about it," Emmett said. "I'll take care of it."

"What are you going to do, Emmett?" Sam asked anxiously.

"Don't worry about it," Emmett said. "I've got it under control."

"That's what I'm worried about," Sam said.


	9. Chapter 9: Round Four

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephanie Meyers. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Notes: As for when boys find out about "flogging the log" I can tell you this, my 15 year old son and 13 year old nephew are quite acquainted with the term. Sadly, I've heard some of their conversations. I wish I had a delete button. My 9 year old nephew doesn't know what it means, though I'm certain that could change any day now. So that's what I used as my yardstick, so to speak. It's always interesting to get different perspectives on the same event. I think a child's age when they lose a parent would have to have an enormous impact on their perception of the event and I wanted to make it clear that these boys all have their own reaction to their father's death. **_

_**Author's Note #2: I didn't make something clear and a reader was kind enough to bring it to my attention. In The Bigger They Are, Bella does not live ON the base, but in the surrounding down. I referred to it as Ft. Bragg, when it should have correctly been referred to as Fayetteville. In Chapter 10, Edward does ask Emmett about living NEAR Ft. Bragg, but I didn't do a good enough job of specifying that. Beyond my own silliness, I blame two things, 1) when I did research for this, I had to read up on several bases to find the military specialty that I wanted Edward to have. Some towns take on the name of the fort near them, some do not. Apparently, I incorrectly noted something. Second, many military families will, when asked, refer to the place they live (even if it isn't on base) as "Ft. Hood or NAS Jax, something like that. Anyway, that was my mistake and I really do appreciate it being called to my attention. I strive to research my stories to make them as factually correct as possible, so please feel free to PM me or leave any questions in your reviews. I am most happy to answer questions. Now, with that out of the way, onto the next one shot, which is Bella's POV, but before she met Edward again. You'll see… :p (corrected spelling of Fayetteville – I really did know better but Mom duty got in the way of making the correction after I noticed it! Sorry!)**_

**#9 Round Four**

_**January 2000**_

I woke up in the middle of the night. Or maybe early morning. I wasn't sure. I blinked at the clock. Two a.m. Beside me, Mac groaned and snuggled closer. It was cold so I didn't try and squirm away. His body heat was more than welcome. Mac flung one heavy leg over me, making me grunt. I pushed at him a little. Big lug.

He didn't budge. He usually didn't. It was one of the hazards of being married to a man of Mac's size. I once teased him that I should have been an Amazon. He had pretended to get offended. Then we kissed and made up from our pretend fight. Those were the best kind.

I stayed snuggled up close to Mac, enjoying the simple pleasure of his presence. He'd only been home a few months so it was still very much a nice surprise to wake up and find him hogging the bed.

And hog it he did.

No matter, I thought sleepily as I wiggled as close as I could get. Then I heard laughter rumble in his broad chest. "Keep that up, sweetheart, and you're gonna get more than you bargained for." He pressed his lips to the top of my head.

I trailed my hand down his chest toward the erection I knew would be straining. For me. I wrapped my fingers around it and gave a small stroke. Mac groaned and buried his face in my hair. "I see someone isn't sleepy," he murmured.

I moved my face so that I could kiss him. I pulled him over so that he was covering me, his massive frame dwarfing me, making me feel safe and cherished. I knew his strength, and in his youth I knew he had had a temper, but to me he was always this man, my lover, my gruff but tender husband. I shifted my hips against him, letting him know what I wanted.

The nausea hit me suddenly. One minute I was getting ready to crawl on top of my husband and have my way with him, the next I was scrambling from underneath him and off the bed and lurching toward the bathroom. I didn't even bother to close the door. What the hell, he'd seen me barf before. Besides, I was too nauseated to care.

I was dimly aware of Mac turning on the light. All the better to witness my humiliation. Fuck it. We were married. He had seen worse. Like the time he had gotten me drunk in California. That had been spectacular. I had puked all over the side of his truck. He hadn't complained; he just washed it the next day and called me a party animal.

After the first spasm passed, I groggily reached for a hand towel and wiped my mouth. Then Mac was pressing a damp washcloth to the back of my neck. I sighed with relief and sat back on my heels. "Thanks," I muttered.

"You okay?" His voice was concerned…puzzled.

He put a big hand to my forehead. "You don't feel hot," he noted.

"I don't feel so hot either," I tried to joke. It fell flat as I hunched over the toilet again. Ding, ding, ding. Round two.

After I finished bringing up whatever little bit had been left in my belly, I felt Mac wiping off my face with the cool wash cloth. It felt like heaven. "Bells?" His deep voice sounded uncertain.

"I'm fine," I promised. I got to my feet. "Actually, I feel much better now." And I did. I felt surprisingly good considering I'd just spend the last several minutes hunched over a toilet.

He got up from where he had been kneeling beside me. "Uh huh," he murmured.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I reached for my toothbrush. Yes, minty fresh once again.

Mac looked at me in the mirror. Our eyes met. "When was your last period, sweetheart?"

I spit out the toothpaste and gaped at him. "What?"

He sort of smiled at me. "When did you have your last period?"

I frowned, thinking back. "Uh…"

"Okay, that's answer enough." Mac hands rubbed at his stubble, a sure sign he was thinking hard about something.

I remembered having a period just before Mac came home, and I had been thrilled to know I wouldn't be on my period the first few days he was home. That was always a buzz kill. It didn't stop us, but it certainly wasn't as much fun. I used to be on the pill, but when my doctor had tried me on a new one, the weight gain and zit attack had caused me to change my mind. We had been exploring our options and using condoms in the meantime. Well, most of the meantime. That first night home we had been way too anxious to bother finding one. In fact, if I remembered correctly he had pretty much been trying to slide into me before he had taken his boots off. Not that I had minded one bit.

I gulped.

"Yeah," Mac said.

"Oh…" I sat down on the toilet, suddenly feeling faint. "You don't think….?"

"Yeah, I do."

Mac knelt down in front of me and used the washcloth to wipe away the last traces of puke sweat from my face. I hated barfing. Luckily, the only times I barfed were when I had had _way_ too much to drink. Or when I was…pregnant.

Shit.

"Okay," I said, surging to my feet. "Let's not panic. We don't know anything yet." I started pacing the small bathroom in my agitation. "I mean, it could just be…"

"Could just be what?" Mac asked. He sounded amused. I glared at him.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But something other than being pregnant."

"I'll go get a test when the store opens," Mac suggested. "You'll take it and then we'll know for sure."

I sank down on the toilet again. "I was just looking forward to no diapers," I moaned.

Mac leaned down and picked me up like I weighed nothing, clicking off the light as he went. Something about that always boosted my ego and made me feel absolutely _cherished_, so I snuggled up close and buried my nose in his chest. He settled me in bed and wrapped his big body around me. Soothingly, he stroked my hair.

"Would it be so terrible if you were pregnant?" he asked in a quiet voice.

I sighed and shook my head. "No, not terrible, just…unexpected." We had decided after Sam that we were done, but had decided to delay Mac's vasectomy by another year, just to make sure. We had a plan. We were in agreement on the plan.

And now this.

Or _maybe_ this. We didn't know anything for sure yet.

Though, thinking over the past two months, I was pretty sure that I was, in fact, pregnant. I knew the signs well enough. I had been tired and a little emotional. Of course, the first few months Mac was home after an extended absence I was emotional. This time he'd been gone for four months for training. It wasn't long, as such things go for military families, but it had still been difficult. I slyly put my hands up to my boobs.

Yep, they were bigger.

I heard Mac chuckle. "I thought they looked bigger." He gently tweaked one nipple. "Me likey."

"Caveman," I grumbled.

I felt him shrug. "Hey, I like boobs. What can I say?" He hugged me close. "But I like _your_ boobs the best."

"I feel so honored," I said.

"You should, I'm a breast connoisseur you know."

"You're a pervert, that's what you are, mister."

"And you wouldn't change me," Mac teased. He sighed and kissed me again. "So, I'll get the test?"

"Yeah," I said.

There was a long moment of silence. "You know, you'll probably think I'm crazy, but I kind of hope you are…"

"So not only are you a pervert, you're fucking insane."

"Hey, we make very cute kids," Mac whispered in my ear, letting his hot breath send shivers down my spine. "Consider it our contribution to making the world a more beautiful place."

"Perverted crazy man who is also cheesy. Wow. I picked a winner," I mocked.

He flexed his bicep, which was admittedly impressive. "You sure did, darlin'. You sure did."

I groaned and bit him on his nipple, which shut him up with satisfactory swiftness.

** ~THTF~**

Seven hours and thirty six minutes later, Mac and I were staring at the stick. It told us that our lives were about to change. I looked up at him and grinned. "So… You ready for round four, Mr. James?"

"With you, Mrs. James? You betcha!" He laughed and picked me up, whirling me around until I threatened to puke on him. He put me down immediately.

"You're still a pervert," I told him.

"Thank goodness," he muttered, pulling me into his arms for a passionate kiss. "And once the boys go to bed, I'm picking up where your little puke fest left us." He nibbled at my earlobe. Fucker. He knew that was a weakness of mine.

"You'd better," I growled. "You know how I get when I'm pregnant." It was true. During every single one of my pregnancies I'd been incredibly horny – even during the early weeks when nausea would strike with little warning.

Mac wriggled his eyebrows, looking absolutely ridiculous. "Why do you think I keep knocking you up?"

"Why do you think I keep _letting_ you?"

**I read this book last year and this man was sort of my "inspiration" for Mac. I sort of pictured Mac looking like this Marine. Not exactly, but it gives you an idea…**

**www(dot)cigardave(dot)com/images/misc/once-a-marine-book-cover(dot)jpg**


	10. Chapter 10:How Bella Got Her Groove Back

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#10 How Bella Got Her Groove Back**

_**June 2008**_

I tapped my foot impatiently while I listened to the phone ring. If he didn't pick up I was going to blow up his cell _and_ Josh's until one of them caved and answered me. I was about to hit the button to disconnect when Will's voice came on the line. "What's wrong, Bella?" he said in an anxious voice. Of course he was worried. This wasn't my usual night or time to call.

And it had been months since I had called to cry on his shoulder, so to speak.

I immediately felt terrible because I remembered another phone call I had had to make two years ago. That particular conversation was crystal clear.

**~THTF~**

_**July 4, 2006**_

My hands were shaking as I dialed the only number I could remember.

"Will?" My voice sounded like it didn't belong to me. Maybe it didn't. I was a different person now. My world had changed completely in an instant.

"Who is this?" It was my brother's voice. The person in all the world that I was closest to…except for Mac. I held onto the sound of Will's voice like a lifeline.

"Will?" I could feel everything crashing in on me.

"Bells?" Will asked, sounding quite worried now. "What's wrong, hon?"

I couldn't speak. The tears and the rage and the shock locked my throat, stilled my tongue. Maybe if I didn't say the words they wouldn't be true. Linda had offered to make the calls, but I couldn't let her. No, I needed to do this. I needed to remind myself that I could be strong. I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to say the words. It felt like they would slice me open and let me bleed to death.

My first thought had been to call Will. We'd always watched out for each other, closer than twins my mother said. We had always been close, ever since the day my mother brought him home from the hospital. I had appointed myself his personal guardian and nursemaid the first time I saw him.

Years later I would find out that he actually needed one – a guardian that is. It had been a good thing I was already in practice. He was my baby brother, and I had learned how to be a Mama Bear from him. I was his protector. But right now I desperately needed him to save _me_. He was my lifeline, my rock, just as I had always been his.

"Will?" I finally managed to say.

"Bella? Is that you?" He sighed. "What's wrong?"

"Oh Will…" My tears were slowing, but I couldn't force the words past my lips.

"Bella? Has something happened?"

I nodded, forgetting in my state that he couldn't see me. "Bella? Did something happen?"

"Will…" I took a deep breath. "It's Mac, Will. Something's…" I couldn't say the words.

"Motherfuck," Will muttered under his breath. "Bella? What happened to Mac? Take your time, hon."

I heard Josh in the background. He had probably just woken up. It was even earlier there in San Diego. "Whassa matter, Will?" I heard Josh's sleepy voice murmur.

"It's Bella, something's happened to Mac," Will explained briefly. "Bella? Talk to me hon, you're scaring me."

"Will, he's…he's gone, Will." I sobbed. "He's dead. They just left. They told me he died. He's dead, Will. Mac is dead. He was killed…over there…" I had to say it again. Maybe it would sink in. "He's dead, Will. Mac is dead." The words still felt like a lie.

There was stunned silence from the other end of the phone. "Oh Bella," he finally breathed. "I'm so fucking sorry…"

"I need you, Will," I said. "I need you. Can you please come here?"

"Like you need to ask?" Will said. "Hold on a second." I heard him begin speaking to Josh. "Mac's been killed." Somehow it sounded more real when Will said it and I flinched. The words were a lie. They had to be. Because it would hurt too much if they were true. I wanted to tell Will not to say it again. _Never_ say it again. "I need to get to Bella. Get me a flight out to Texas. I don't care if it's on Floyd's Flying Bus, or in the baggage area, but I want to be out of here by lunch."

"I'll get us both a flight," I heard Josh say.

"Josh, you've got patients lined up and-"

"I'm not listening anymore," Josh shot back. I laughed then, but it came out mostly as a sob. I felt something tight and painful inside of me loosen. Will was coming. Will would be there for me…for the boys. I would hold on until Will got here.

"We'll be there just as soon as we can, Bella. _Today_…you hold on for me, hon. I'll be there," Will assured me. He paused. "Do Mom and Dad know?"

I shook my head and then remembered I was on the phone. "No, I called…I called you first. You're my Wills, you know?"

"I know," he said gently. "And you're my Bells."

It hurt to hear that name, because Mac had kind of stolen it from my brother. So it was Mac's too. But Mac was gone. He'd never call me Bells again.

Every single fucking thought came circling back around to that reality.

"Do you want me to call them?" Will offered. I felt as if a burden had been lifted.

"Would you?" I asked desperately.

"Yeah, yeah," Will said. "Of course." He sighed. "How are the boys? Do they know?"

"Yeah, they uh…they woke up when the men were here," I explained. _The men_…that's how I would always think of them. I couldn't remember their faces or their names and it hadn't even been an hour since they left.

It had been a lifetime.

"How are they taking it?" Will asked, bringing me back to the moment.

"Same as me," I said. "So…uh…not so good."

"Shit, Bella," Will said, his voice sounding almost as shaky as mine. "I'm so fucking sorry." He blew out a breath. "I don't even know what to say except I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I am too, Will," I whispered. "Please hurry, as fast as you can get here. And tell Josh thanks for dropping everything to be with me. Tell him I love him."

"Aw, Bella, that's what family is for. That's what families do," Will said quietly. "I love you. We'll be there soon."

"And you'll call Mom and Dad?"

"Yeah, as soon as we hang up. I'll tell them not to call you, okay? You've got enough to deal with without Mom going all drama queen on you." We loved her, but we both knew my mother could be emotionally exhausting. I couldn't deal with her too right now and Will knew that. He'd run interference for me.

"Thank you, Will. For everything."

"Love you."

I drew a deep breath. Will was coming. I just had to hold on until he got here.

**~THTF~**

_**June 2008**_

"Are the boys okay?" Will asked sharply. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, everyone's fine," I assured him hastily. "Sorry, I just…I just wanted to talk."

Will laughed and I could see him sprawling in his favorite chair. "Well talk away, big sister," he said. "How are the boys?"

"Raising hell and my blood pressure," I answered.

"So…good, right?" Will snickered.

"Normal anyway," I confirmed.

"Other than my brilliant conversation skills and scintillating wit, to what do I owe this honor?" I could hear the curiosity in his voice. He knew me too well; he knew something was up.

I took a deep breath and decided to dive. "Remember when I told you about Emmett busting up that man's windshield?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Hottie McSmoothie pants?"

"What?"

"That's what I call him," Will explained. "I wasn't going to call him Sergeant Major Cullen. It just doesn't sound nearly as hot."

"I'm trying to remember why I called you," I teased.

"Josh says that he sounds dreamy," Will added. I might have been a tad bit overly enthusiastic when I described Edward to my brother. "But there's already a McDreamy."

"You're still obsessed with that show?" I asked.

"Maybe we could call him Sergeant McSmoothie?" Will suggested.

"Are you done?"

"Honey, I'm just getting started."

I sighed and tried not to laugh, but it was impossible. "All right, down boy," I warned. "Do you want to hear the hot gossip or not?"

"Spill," he ordered.

"It was his birthday yesterday," I started.

"Did you do the whole James' Birthday Tradition?" Will asked, sounding amused.

"Of course," I answered. "What else did you expect?"

"Okay, so Sergeant McSmoothie had a birthday," Will prompted. "Did he by any chance get a little Bella ala mode for a present?"

"Will!"

"I'm just _asking_," Will said. "I mean, Bella, honey… I love you, I do. And I adored Mac, you know that. But seriously, you might as well have been wearing a chastity belt for the last two years. Your parts probably have dust on them by now."

"William Swan!"

"I'm not up to all three names yet, so I'm going to keep talking," Will persisted. He forged ahead. "You're thirty six years old Bella. You do realize that there are women out there who are just _starting_ their families…getting married for the _first_ time at that age?" He sighed deeply. "Bells, thirty is the new twenty, and everyone knows that a woman doesn't really hit her prime until she hits forty."

"Way to make me feel old, jack ass."

"No! It should make you feel exactly the opposite!" Will argued. "You're a young woman, a young _beautiful_ woman, and you deserve to find happiness again."

"You think I'm beautiful?" I teased.

"Well, for a girl, I guess," Will teased right back. Then he sighed. "Bella, Mac would be the first one to say he wanted you to be happy. You've got a lot of years ahead of you, girl. There's no reason you should spend them alone, no fucking reason at all."

I fell silent because I didn't have a response to that. Then I giggled, remembering why I had called – partly for reassurance and partly to boast. "Well, you'll be happy to know that he kissed me then."

There was utter silence from the other end. I counted down. Wait for it….

"Holy shit!" Will practically squealed. "Josh! Josh! Bella is telling me how she finally got her groove back!"

I heard Josh laughing in the background. "Tell her congratulations!" Josh called out.

"Was it good?" Will asked. "Was Mr. McSmoothie as good as kisser as he sounds like he'd be?"

"Will you quit making him sound like a dessert at McDonald's?" I blew out a breath.

"Well you're the one who said he was like sin and chocolate," Will retorted. "Desserts naturally come to mind."

"I did_ not_ say that!" I hadn't. Had I? No, I was quite sure I hadn't said_ that_. Maybe sin and honey…

Will laughed. "Okay, maybe that was me," he conceded. "But you still haven't told me, Bella."

"Told you what?"

"How was the kiss?"

"Kiss_es_, Will, as in plural."

"Excellent progress," Will said. "So…how were they?"

I paused, remembering our kisses. I smiled. "Oh Will…McDreamy's got nothing on him."


	11. Chapter 11: I've Got a Ticket to Ride

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephanie Meyers. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**In this outtake, we get a little conversation between Esme and Edward's younger brother, Masen.**

**#11 I've Got a Ticket to Ride**

"Hello?" Esme smiled at the sound of her younger son's voice.

"Mase? It's mom," she said.

Masen laughed. "Yeah, Mom, I know. It says so right here on my phone."

"Why are you being annoying?" Esme asked.

"Just because I can," Masen replied.

Esme sighed. "Well, if you're going to be a pain, then I'm not going to tell you what I called to tell you."

"Come again?"

"I called to tell you some absolutely delicious gossip about your brother," Esme said quietly. "But if you're more interested in playing games I'll just go do the dishes and then go to bed." Her voice was deliberately casual.

"No way," Masen said. "You've got to spill the beans now or I'll…"

"You'll what?" Esme asked, amused.

"I'll pout," Masen threatened. "And you know I'm good at it."

"Yes, but the puppy dog eyes don't work long distance," Esme pointed out.

"I've got my ways," Masen insisted.

"So do you want to know or not?" Esme asked.

"Is it good?"

"It's…amazing," Esme replied breathily.

"Shit! Edward's met a girl. Hasn't he? I know he has. I can tell by your voice. She's gorgeous, isn't she? For some reason the chicks dig that pretty boy face. I don't see the attraction really, but there's no accounting for taste. Is she a leggy blond? What's she do for a living? I'll bet she's a…hmmm, pharmaceutical rep?'

"Masen?"

"Yes?" 

"Shut up and I'll tell you," Esme said.

"Okay." There was a long pause. "Uh, Mom, that was me shutting up."

"Just making sure, dear."

"Mom…"

"Yes, Edward met a lovely young woman," Esme confirmed.

"Leggy blond?"

"Uh, no from what I hear, petite brunette, and she's a teacher," Esme replied. "Though I confess I have no information about her uh…legginess."

"From what you _hear_? You haven't met her yet?"

"I just heard about her tonight, dear," Esme said. "Edward called to tell me that he invited her to our house for the Fourth." Esme paused dramatically. "He invited her _and_ her boys."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. "No shit, Edward's dating a woman with kids. Talk about doing the unexpected. I didn't think Eddie did the family thing." Another pause. "Wait, you did say _boys_ right, as in plural?"

"As in four," Esme said with a laugh.

"Oh shit, Eddie's going big again, isn't he?" Masen said in a low voice. "That fucker, always trying to one up me."

"Language, dear," Esme admonished. "And what do you mean he's trying to 'one up' you?"

Masen sighed as if it should be obvious. "Well, I've got two kids, and now he's dating a woman with_ four_." There was a pause. "I wonder if Alyssa would consider popping out a couple more?"

"No," Esme answered for her daughter-in-law. "Nor should she for those reasons."

"Aw, mom."

"Don't make me call Alyssa directly and tell her what you said."

"You play dirty," Masen complained.

"Remember that."

"So, tell me more," Masen said. "I want to hear all about this wonder woman who has captured Eddie boy's interest."

"You know he doesn't like to be called Eddie."

"Exactly."

"Masen Carlisle Cullen."

"Mom, I'm touched…really. You remembered my full name; that means so much to me." Masen sniffed as if he was crying.

"Do you want to hear about Bella or not?"

"Bella, huh?" Masen made a humming sound. "I like it, very exotic sounding. Brunette, you said? It seems like our Eddie is branching out."

"You might say that."

"So what's the deal with the kids' father?" Masen asked. "He around at all? Just a jerk? Has Edward met him? Did he beat his ass yet? Is he bigger than Eddie? Does Edward need help beating this guy's ass? I'll fly in, special like."

"Masen…" 

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Shut up."

"Thank you."

"So?"

"So what?"

"Mom you can't expect me to stay shut up if you don't tell me what I want to know."

"She's a widow, Masen. So no inappropriate jokes."

"Sorry, Mom," Masen said in a suitably chastened voice.

"It's all right dear, I know you're an idiot. But you're my son and I still love you."

"Really, Mom, I'm choking up here with all the sentiment you keep throwing at me."

"I'd love to throw something at you, dear, but you're too far away."

"Ouch, Mom, that one hurt. It really did."

"Masen?"

"Shutting."

"She was married to a soldier and he died in the war almost two years ago, Masen," Esme explained. "In fact, he was killed on the 4th of July, so Edward wants to get them out of town and let them have some peace and quiet for the anniversary."

"That's really nice of him," Masen said.

"Yes, Masen it is."

"Just remember, he can't share a room with her. You didn't let Alyssa and I share a room the first time we stayed at your house. Just because he's your favorite, no preferential treatment."

"I don't have a favorite," Esme insisted.

"Then how come I always had to wear his hand-me-downs?" Masen paused. "And how come you guys always gave me an earlier curfew than him?"

"That's because you're an idiot, remember?"

"Oh yeah, I keep forgetting that."

"Don't worry, Alyssa and I will remind you."

"You're good people, Mom. I don't care what anyone else says."

"Besides," Esme continued as if he hadn't spoken. Sometimes it was necessary to do that with Masen. "She'll have the boys with her and I don't imagine they'd be very happy with a man sharing their mother's bed, especially given that it's the anniversary of their father's death."

"How old are her boys?" Masen asked. "Any chance we can team them up with Kyle and Alex to make Edward's life hell? Because I would really be into that. I'd even provide financial backing."

"They're 14, 12, 10, and 7," Esme answered.

Masen gave a low whistle. "Eddie boy is going to have his hands full."

There was a long pause and then Esme laughed. "Yes, I know he will."

"He's going to lose his mind," Masen observed.

"I'm quite sure he will," Esme agreed.

"He won't know what hit him."

"Not until it's too late," Esme said.

Masen snorted. "Shit, I wish I could see it all firsthand."

"I'll keep you informed," Esme assured him. "And perhaps you and Alyssa and the boys should come for a visit sometime?"

"You're evil, that's what you are," Masen said.

"I do what I can, dear."

"Maybe a surprise visit?" Masen asked.

"Oh that's always the best kind," Esme mused.

"It won't be right away, but probably before school starts."

"Your father and I will drive down so that we can see the boys and Alyssa."

"And me."

"Must we?" Esme asked.

"You must, it's in your contracts."

"Oh well, I guess we can endure," Esme sighed.

"So we should stay with Eddie, right?"

"Well how can you visit with your brother if you don't?" Esme asked with a wicked chuckle.

"He's going to shit himself."

"Masen…language."

"Sorry, Mom, but it's just too good to believe." He laughed. "My big brother, falling for a beautiful widow with four boys. He's just bought himself a ticket to a ride he won't believe."

Esme laughed. "Yes… Isn't it wonderful?"


	12. Chapter 12: What is Left

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephanie Meyers. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_Author's Note: This is set on the evening of the 4__th__ of July, when Bella spends time alone with her boys._

**#12 What is Left**

"_**A memory is what is left when something happens and does not completely unhappen." ~Edward de Bono**_

So here we were - the second anniversary of Mac's death. This year, thing seemed better, as they were supposed to, I assume. _Recovery takes time_. How many times had I heard that in one of those group meetings? I stopped going more than a year ago. They were useful only up to a point.

Somehow, we were figuring it out together, the boys and me.

"First, I would like to tell you all that you've been minding your manners very nicely for the Cullens." Jake beamed and nudged his brother Sam.

"Second, before we talk about Daddy, I wanted to talk about tomorrow night. Mr. Edward and I might be going out tomorrow night. And I wanted to know if it was still all right with you if you stayed here with Dr. and Mrs. Cullen while we did?"

All four boys nodded.

I paused. "So you're really okay with staying with Dr. and Mrs. Cullen?"

"Dr. Cullen's cool," Emmett said with a shrug. "I'm okay with it." Then he grinned. "Just don't stay out too late."

"I'll try not to," I assured him. "Seth?"

"I'm fine with it, Mrs. Cullen seems nice too."

"Sam?"

"Dr. Cullen told me I could go into his study. He's got lots of books there." That would settle the matter for Sam, I knew. Anyone who gave him access to books would make a lifelong friend.

"Jake?"

"She bakes a lot of cookies," Jake confided with a grin. "She and I get along _just_ fine."

I suppressed a groan. Jake would be on a permanent sugar buzz by the time we left. "Okay then, I guess we're still on for tomorrow night." I guess my nerves were showing because Seth reached over and patted my hand.

"Don't be nervous, Mom. It's just a date."

I nodded, trying not to laugh at his earnest expression. "Okay, guys…now let's talk about today and what it means to all of us."

All four faces turned solemn.

When we left for Charleston, I had told the boys to bring two things with them specifically for this night. First, I had asked them to bring along one item that was linked to a happy time with their father, a moment, a day, an event. The object didn't have to make sense to anyone else, just to them. Second, a favorite memory of Mac, that one image of him that would be forever burned into their minds because together, we wouldn't let any of us forget.

I stared at my boys, sitting in a circle around me. We were on the floor; each of them had something in front of our crossed legs. We would get to those things in a minute. I looked at them, each face so familiar and beloved. Emmett, who looked and acted so much like his father. He was the first miracle we had created.

After Emmett arrived, Mac had been so proud, strutting around the hospital like he'd something no one else ever had. Of course, he was right. No one else had made an Emmett. Mac had handed out nasty smelling cigars to everyone in his unit, stinking up the place in short order. I wasn't there, but his buddies told me about it.

I remembered some of those faces now: Johnny Whitaker (he had died six months before Mac in a car accident of all things, leaving the base after a day's work), Marshall Terigson, who was now out of the Army and living in Hawaii the last I'd heard. Red McPherson, a tiny little man who had a tendency to pick fights with those much bigger than he was – including Mac. He had married a pastry chef and together they owned a little bakery in Phoenix. I could see him in the kitchen, terrorizing those around him. His nickname had been Napoleon for obvious reasons. Then there had been Thomas Reynolds. We had remained friends with him and his wife Megan for a long time, dropping in and out of touch like military families do. He was still in the Army as far as I knew. Those were the ones I'd known best at that base.

They had shown up at our house at least one weekend a month to drink beer and brag. We were the first ones to have a baby, so they all kept asking Mac the weirdest questions. When I heard him discussing our sex life, I'd put my foot down. No personal information.

Mac had honored that request – actually it had been a demand and he knew it.

I smiled when I saw what Emmett had brought. It made perfect sense. He took his place among his brothers so seriously. I looked at him and cradled his face just as I had done when he was Jake's age. For a moment, he was. Young and small and vulnerable. He was still vulnerable, no matter what image he liked to project. His memories of Mac were the strongest, the most vivid, so Emmett was the one who suffered the most.

My eyes wandered to Seth. Mac had been on a training exercise when I went into labor with Seth eleven days early. A neighbor had driven me to the hospital in a mad rush and another neighbor had watched Emmett. Mac had come rushing into the labor room, covered in mud and stinking to high heaven. But he arrived three minutes before Seth was born, so I forgave him.

I found out later that he had come part of the way in a tank. That always made me laugh. He had rushed to me Pony Express style. Running through the swamp to the tank, from the tank to an Army jeep, from the jeep to a friend's car. One of his buddies had picked him up and raced him to the hospital.

When Emmett had greeted his new brother by biting him on the foot, it had been Mac who had taken Emmett out into the hallway and told him why he couldn't do that. Emmett hadn't looked very impressed by his father's reasoning, but he knew better than to disobey his father. When they came back in my room, they were wearing identical scowls, two pairs of blue eyes narrowed with irritation. It had been difficult not to laugh.

Seth was passing his item from one hand to the other, his fingers quick and restless. His eyes kept darting around the circle, watching his brothers, watching me. Waiting…

Sam waited patiently for my eyes to fall on him. This boy, this child with the brain that never failed to amaze, the compassion that never failed to move me… How blessed I was to be his mother. Mac and I could never figure out where Sam's mind came from, certainly no one in our families was a genius. Though, as Mac admitted, alcoholics tend not to use their brains very efficiently. My father was smart but no genius. I was a hard worker, and that passed for being smart when it came to school. My mother was flighty but creative. Will's mind was quick and intuitive more than anything close to genius.

Yet Sam used his brilliant mind as effortlessly as he used his lungs. To him, that was simply the way he saw the world.

When he was a year and a half old, Sam's pediatrician had recognized that something about him was different. Three years later, Sam was reading on a third grade level and Mac and I could do nothing more than to simply stand back and watch in amazement. Mac had been so proud of this wonder child, our third son, supposed to be our last.

Jake wriggled around, his butt scooting on the carpet. No doubt his restlessness was the result of a sugar high. He had a rare talent for sniffing the stuff out, even in the healthiest kitchen. He licked his lips, probably remembering whatever pilfered treat he had enjoyed. But there would be no scolding tonight.

He was gripping a picture tightly in his hand. It was his favorite picture of Mac. It was not a surprise to see that was what he had brought with him.

"All right, James boys," I said. "I see everyone's brought their favorite something of Daddy's." They all nodded, their faces solemn, their hands restless

I pursed my lips and looked at Seth. "Why don't you share first Seth?" He glanced at Emmett, used to giving way to his older brother. Emmett just shrugged. Seth was never first, so it threw him. I'd have to make more of an effort to put Seth first. Sometimes he got lost in the shuffle and that was my fault.

Seth cleared his throat. "Uh…I brought Dad's favorite deck of cards," he said, holding up the ratty red and white box. Mac had taken those cards on every deployment, somehow managing never to lose them. I had offered to replace them dozens of times. He had always refused. "Nope, sweetheart," he would tell me. "These are my lucky cards."

They had been in his pocket the day he died. They had been included in the package with his personal effects.

Seth cleared his throat again. "I remember when Dad taught me how to play poker," he said. "When I turned eight, he told me it was time to learn, that every man should know how to play poker and smoke a cigar. He told me the cigar would have to wait until I was twelve." Seth laughed but I knew we were both thinking that his dad hadn't lived to see him turn twelve. "I sucked pretty bad, but Dad kept at it." He shrugged. "I remember it was just him and me, and there was a pile of toothpicks in the middle of the kitchen table." He looked up at me. "And that's one of my best memories of Dad, learning how to play poker, just him and me." He blinked. "It was really cold outside because it was just after my birthday…"

I had a memory of that day too. I had stood silently in the doorway while Mac instructed Seth on his "poker" face. Watching Seth as he tried to imitate his father's bland, composed expression had been priceless. I remembered that when Seth had bent his head to study his cards, Mac had looked at our son and smiled, his love and pride obvious.

I had fallen in love with Mac all over again on that day.

I swallowed hard and nodded. "Thank you for reminding me of that day, Seth." I smiled. "That's one of my favorite memories too."

Sam spoke up, which was unusual. "Can I go next, Mom?"

"Sure, sweetie."

He held up a drawing. A child's handprint and footprint in finger paint against bright yellow construction paper. Leave it to Sam to do something different. His teacher had been somewhat surprised when Sam removed his shoe to get a footprint as well. When I had asked him why, he told me that his dad might not recognize his hand, but he would definitely recognize his feet. The logic of it escaped me until Sam explained that he remembered Mac tickling his feet. I should have known better than to doubt Sam's logical mind. Scrawled on the paper was _I love you, Dad. I miss you. We are proud of you._ "I made this for Dad," Sam said. "And you mailed it to him," Sam continued as he looked at me. "Dad had a buddy take a picture of him holding my picture and he sent it to me." Sam smiled.

"And your dad brought it home with him too," I said quietly.

Sam nodded. "Dad told me it was one of the most important pieces of mail he had ever gotten." The expression on Sam's face just about did me in, but I held it together. I was sure I'd be crying at some point tonight, but I wanted to at least get through this before I did.

Emmett was chewing at his lower lip. "Emmett, are you ready?" I knew that in some ways, this day was harder for Emmett than the others. Emmett had been very close to his father. Before Mac left that last time, he and Emmett had started discussing things like first cars, starting high school, dating… And then Mac had been taken away before he could help Emmett experience any of that.

The hole was there.

"Uh…yeah…" Emmett hunched his shoulders forward, another move he had gotten from Mac. It meant he was uncomfortable. Then the hand went to the jaw and rubbed. Anxious. He held up a battered watch. "This was Dad's," he said simply. "It was the only thing he had from _his_ dad." Emmett touched it reverently. Like the cards, it had been in Mac's personal effects. I had given each of the boys something that their father had carried with him into the war zone.

I couldn't see them from where I was, but I knew that there were tiny flecks of blood imbedded in some of the smallest crevices. It might have been Mac's blood, maybe not. It didn't matter; it represented the end of a life. The people at Dover had been very good about cleaning everything, but if you looked close enough you could see it. I had looked closely.

Emmett shrugged and tucked the watch back in his pocket. Like his father, he was a man of few words. He was done.

Jake was practically quivering in place. I laughed and looked at him. "Okay, Jake, I guess it's your turn."

"I shouldn't have to go last all the time just 'cuz I'm the youngest," he said.

"You're right," I agreed.

"I am?" He seemed surprised.

I nodded and he looked at Emmett with a challenge in his dark eyes. Emmett just rolled his eyes and then motioned for Jake to get on with it. Jake held up a fishing lure and I flashed back to the day when Mac had given it to him.

"This was Dad's favorite," Jake said quietly. He looked at me. "And the day before he left, he promised me that he'd teach me how to cast as soon as he got home." Of course, Mac hadn't been able to keep that promise. I looked into Jake's eyes and there was none of the anger that still lingered in Emmett. Instead, I saw only sadness. Jake was sad that his father wouldn't be able to teach him how to fish, but he wasn't angry. In some ways, acceptance had come easier to Jake. Mac's death simply _was_.

As I looked at them, I knew that was what I would miss the most. The moments that Mac would not be there, where his absence would be felt. He'd never teach Emmett to drive or help Seth perfect his poker game. He wouldn't see Sam graduate from college or teach Jake how to fish.

We talked and laughed and cried.

"You remember that time Mr. Thomas carried Dad home?" Emmett asked. I remembered. Thomas had been celebrating his son's birth and Mac had helped. A little too much. Thomas had helped me pour Mac into our bed while Mac decided that we all needed to be serenaded by "Freebird." He had been a big Lynyrd Skynyrd fan.

"Remember how Dad would cut out a tiny slice of cake every time Mom made one?" Seth said quietly. I groaned and laughed at the same time, remembering how angry I would get when I lifted the lid of the cake pan and _every_ time, there was a small slice missing.

"Or when he helped me get rid of the monster under my bed?" Jake's voice was quiet. For months, he had had nightmares about a monster under his bed. Then one day, Mac had gone on a "hunting expedition" and rid Jake's room of the monster. Forever.

"I remember him letting me read to him," Sam whispered. "He would come upstairs and sit on my bed." Mac had been infinitely patient while Sam had worked through the words and the sounds. Often, I would look in to see Mac curled around Sam, both of them fast asleep. Mac would have a little smile on his face, his big boots getting dirt on Sam's comforter.

"What about you, Mom?" Seth finally asked. "What did you bring to remember Dad?"

I looked at the four of them and I smiled through my tears. "I don't need anything to remember him by when I've got you."


	13. Chapter 13: Fitting the Pieces, Em & Ros

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephanie Meyers. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

Author's Note: This little side story really has no impact on events in The Bigger They Are right now. But for those who like Rosalie and Emmett I thought you might find this interesting. I've always felt sorry for canon Rosalie. I wanted to portray something beyond the "bitchy" attitude. I like Rose, and I hope you like her too.

**#13 Fitting the Pieces**

The young girl twisted her hair nervously around and around her finger as she listened to phone ring. She was used to feeling uncertain and anxious; what she was not accustomed to is the feeling of urgency that filled her up.

She hung up after three rings, losing her courage. For an hour, she listened to music and ignored the email from her mother that waited on her laptop. Time enough to deal with that later.

The phone sat on the table by her bed, growing larger with every passing minute. It seemed to take on a glow, as if daring her to not notice it. Her eyes kept wandering back to it, unwillingly and with great trepidation.

Though shy by nature, she was not easily intimidated. She held her own in the quagmire of the high school social scene at her old school, depending on her wits more than her beauty. Her face might open doors, but it was her heart and her brain that she trusted.

Beauty was fleeting and temporary. She only had to look at her mother to know that. Better not to trust in a foundation as shaky as that.

It was true she had ignored the hulking Emmett James at Adam's birthday party. She knew that many would assume it was conceit or bad manners or a fit of teenaged sulks that had caused her to do so. But she knew that it was only because she was so drawn to him that she could not speak to him, and it was that realization that held her in its grip and had her picking up a phone to call a boy she barely knew at all. The moment she had seen him, she had simply known. _This boy will be important in my life…_ The thought had come unbidden and unexpected, but she knew it was true nonetheless.

She had felt his eyes on her, of course. She wasn't a fool. She had felt his interest, his fascination. Like other boys, he was drawn to the shell. But she also sensed something else in him; she guessed that maybe he sensed it too, this whatever-it-was thing between them. It wasn't romantic or sexual or even love; it was just as if her soul had recognized his. Still, he had not moved closer or even spoken to her. He had watched her, his blue eyes full of something she could recognize and understand. She had seen it in her own reflection often enough.

Emmett James was broken too, changed in a way that could not be unchanged. Like her, he bore he scars where no one could see them. She wanted to scratch beneath the surface and see who lived under that mask. She wanted to know what made him tick. What gave him the strength she saw in him?

His father had died in the war, she knew that much from conversations overheard from the adults. Her own father wasn't dead, but he might as well be. In fact, he could be dead and she wouldn't know. She didn't even know where he was. Did he still love her? Did he even think about her? Her mother seemed to think the answer was no, and Rosalie had no evidence to prove her wrong.

Her mother…

Though she missed her mother, in truth it felt healthier to be away from her. Her mother's illness was just a physical manifestation of the poison that lingered in her heart. Her mother had never really liked her. She had loved her, but not _liked_ her. There was a difference, of course, and Rosalie was smart enough to know it.

So now her mother was dying (they tried to pretend but the facts remained) and Rosalie knew that soon she would be alone in the world. Uncle Jasper and Aunt Alice might welcome her for the summer, but a few fleeting months was different than a lifetime. Rosalie wouldn't embarrass herself by asking, but a part of her wished…

Then finally she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. _Now or never_, she told herself.

Before she could rethink it, or _over_ think it any longer, Rosalie snatched up the phone and punched in the numbers she had memorized earlier. It had been right there on Aunt Alice's calendar. **Bella James** – **xxx-xxxx**

"Hello?" she said when a boy's voice answered. It wasn't _his_ voice. She knew his voice. She had listened to him talking to his brothers; she had liked the sound of his voice. This had to be one of the younger brothers. "Is Emmett there?"

"Hi, this is Jake," the boy said. "Who is this?"

Rosalie smiled. She liked kids; they were still unsullied by the world and all its ugliness. They were innocent and sweet, a way for the world to renew itself.

The world needed another chance.

"This is Rosalie Hale," she said. "Can I talk to Emmett?"

Jake giggled. "Yeah, but why would you want to?"

Rose laughed. She liked this kid. "Well, I guess I just want to. Can you get him for me?"

"Sure," Jake said agreeably. Then he pulled away from the phone a little. "Hey, Emmett! Some girl named Rosalie wants to talk to you!" He sounded shocked that anyone would want to speak to his brother.

Rose winced at the volume but then smiled when she heard footsteps pounding toward the phone. Apparently Jake was holding the phone out of his brother's reach. "Gimme the phone _now_ or I'm gonna pound you!"

"I'm telling!" Jake called out. Then Emmett was on the phone, breathing hard.

"Rosalie? Is it really you?" He sounded skeptical, as if his brother might have played a trick on him.

"Yeah, this is Rosalie." She took a deep breath. Now what? She had no idea what to do now that she actually had him on the phone.

"Hold on a minute. I'm going upstairs," Emmett said and she heard him walking, his big feet making noise as he trudged up the stairs.

She heard a door slam. "I'm back," Emmett said in a somewhat breathless voice.

"Is it okay that I called?" she asked uncertainly. What had possessed her to call this boy? Even now, she wasn't sure. Where had she found the courage?

"Oh yeah, I mean, yeah, I'm glad you did," Emmett answered. "I'm surprised, but uh…really glad."

"Okay," Rose replied softly.

They were silent for a long moment but it did not strike her as uncomfortable. Rather it seemed as if they were settling in for a nice long chat but were content to wait. "So…I guess you're glad school is out?" she asked. That seemed an innocent enough topic.

"Yeah," Emmett murmured. "Will you be going to school here in the fall?"

Rose paused. "I hope so," she finally said truthfully. "I don't really want to go home."

"Why?" He seemed genuinely curious.

"My mom's sick," Rose said.

"How sick?"

"She's dying," Rose whispered. "They won't tell me but I'm not stupid."

"I'm sorry," Emmett told her and she could tell he meant it. "Why don't you want to go back then?"

"She's….not good for me." There it was, simple and plain. She hoped she wouldn't have to explain that to him.

"Oh." Acceptance. That was it. She felt herself relax.

"What's it like when a parent dies?" she asked, and now she knew exactly why she called him. He possessed knowledge that she needed. Her mother has never been a particularly good mother, but even an indifferent mother was better than none at all. Now she faces losing even that.

Emmett probably had a very good father, one kind of like Uncle Jasper. So his loss would have been much greater. And somehow, he had survived the worst. Perhaps if he was there for her, she would survive it too.

They would still be lost, but they would face it together.

"I'm not really sure I can describe it," Emmett replied with as much honesty as he can. "It's like your world explodes and you try to put the pieces back together, but nothing _fits_, you know?"

Strangely, she did. Her whole life had been a parade of pieces that don't comfortably fit. But the moment she had seen Emmett, she had known he would fit into her life. He simply _belonged_ there. It was strange and comforting and frightening all at the same time. But there was no fighting it. "I'm ignoring an email from my mother," Rosalie admitted.

"Why?"

"Because none of it matters anymore," Rosalie murmured. "She didn't want me there. And now I don't want to be there either. I don't want to see the men walk in and out of our house. I don't want to feel their eyes on me." She shuddered. "They make me feel…"

"Has anyone touched you?" There is fire and ice in Emmett's voice, a rage far beyond his years. But he had been tempered by tragedy too, aged by circumstances beyond his control.

"No," Rosalie assures him. "But they look at me, some of them." She sighed. "Of course the men are probably gone now that she's sick."

"Will you be able to stay with your Uncle Jasper?"

"I hope so."

"They like having you around," Emmett offered.

"I'm not theirs," Rosalie reminded him. "I'm just a pain in the ass teenager that's kind of related to him."

"They'll keep you," Emmett said, and though she knew he couldn't make her any promises she found herself comforted by his certainty.

"Emmett?"

"Yes?"

"Would you just sit here and be on the phone with me? Even if I'm not talking?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Thank you, Emmett."

"No problem, Rose."


	14. Chapter 14: Float that by Me Again?

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#14: Float that by Me Again?**

I glanced at my purse, making sure one last time that I had the list of stuff I needed for Jake's birthday. I had meant to get a move on earlier in the day but the washing machine hadn't cooperated and if I didn't wash clothes soon the boys and I would be walking around in yard work clothes. That was something that _nobody_ wanted to see.

A part of me admitted that I wanted to look nice when we went to Edward's house tonight. Hell, my girly parts wanted to do pirouettes and dance the tango for him. With him. On top of him. Underneath him. At this point, I'd look into a trapeze if I thought it would do any good. It was getting more and more frustrating. Correction,_ I_ was getting more and more frustrated.

I had the will. I had the desire. I even had the pretty lingerie thanks to a shopping trip with Alice. Victoria's Secret had had a huge sale and I had stocked up on some of the most provocative shit I could find. Lacy, sheer stuff that no mom should admit to owning.

What I _didn't_ have was fucking privacy. And even if we did get privacy, Edward was moving at glacier speed while I was thinking an avalanche might be a good way to go.

And, to be quite honest, while I appreciated Edward being such a gentleman about the whole sex thing, I was starting to get a complex. He was treating me like I was made of glass, and frankly I was getting tired of it. I wanted him to grind what felt like it was a magnificent cock against me, I wanted to hear him moan my name. I just fucking _wanted_ him. It had been two years. Two _very long_ years, and now that my urges had finally come back, they had come back with a vengeance.

I felt like I was going to pull a Godzilla and run over him like he was my own personal Tokyo. I wanted to politely ask the boys to leave us alone for a few days and throw him to the floor and do nasty, nasty things to him. I wanted to have my way with him. Repeatedly. Interrupted only by Gatorade breaks. The strange thing was that I didn't even feel guilty about how much I wanted him. I finally accepted that I was a relatively young woman with normal needs and desires, and I was lucky enough to have a great guy who _seemed_ interested in me. Just not interested enough to make a real move.

Oh, the kisses were amazing, no mistake about that. His hands, when he allowed himself to actually touch me, traced paths of fire on my skin. The man looked like sex on a stick, was obviously hard for me just about every minute we spent together, yet he seemed able to put a halt to things without even breaking a sweat. He'd just stop, adjust himself, give me an embarrassed little smile, and go on his merry way.

Meanwhile, I had gone through 28 size D batteries in the past two months. That shit was getting expensive.

Tomorrow, I was going to give up and order something that plugged in. I was having trouble explaining to the boys why I was buying batteries all the time. They were getting old enough now to start understanding some of that stuff and the last thing I needed was for one of them to guess what Mommy did when she "took a nice long bath" to relax. I was getting relaxed all right.

Maybe I needed something waterproof, though that wouldn't solve the problem of the batteries. Maybe both would be in order.

I sighed as the car ahead of me, driven by a blue-haired old lady, hesitated a _long_ time at the stop sign. Yeah, yeah, it's clear, I thought impatiently. Then grandma went through the stop sign and moved on. I came to an obedient stop too; I had been raised to respect the law after all.

I checked. Left. Right. Left. Coast was clear. I pulled out into the intersection.

I heard the noise of the engine before I looked up. A pick up truck, red, huge, old…heading straight for me.

I could only think about my boys as I braced myself for the impact_. Please don't let them be left alone…My boys…my boys…Emmett…Seth…Sam…Jake…I can't leave them…they need me…_

It was like hitting a brick wall, except this brick wall had raced toward me. I heard a pop and then something that smelled like burning plastic hit my face.

The air bag.

My SUV was spinning around. My foot hurt like hell. My windshield was shattered from the impact. _At least Emmett isn't responsible for this one_…

Then the spinning stopped and I was aware of the sound of voices. I realized my eyes had been closed. I opened them to see a concerned face staring at me. "Ma'am…are you all right?"

I blinked up at the guy. Was I okay? Other than wanting to vomit from the burning smell, a foot that ached like a rotten tooth, and a slight pain in my forehead I was pretty sure I was doing as well as could be expected. But I was in one piece and the relief that my boys weren't going to be alone made me feel lightheaded.

I was alive. My boys were going to be okay. They still had me.

"The other driver?" I asked, putting a hand up to my forehead. Ouch. Note to self: don't touch.

"Okay," he said. "Drunk as a skunk from the smell of things."

I nodded, but that hurt too. I felt something trickle out of my nose and down into my mouth. I wiped. Blood. Yuck. I looked at the guy, a kid actually, probably not much older than Emmett. "Do I still have a face?" I asked. For some reason, the movie "Face Off" came to mind. I was freaking a little bit.

He looked at me, confused. "I mean, is part of my face ripped off? Is that why I'm bleeding?" I really had to know.

He laughed and shook his head. "No, it's just a little nose bleed." Good to know. I doubt Edward would want to have a relationship with a woman who had no face.

And I really, really wanted to have sex again at least once before I died. _Please God, I know this is probably tacky. But I really want to get laid._

Once I realized that I wasn't dying (or faceless), I was surprisingly patient while the fire department freed me from the twisted metal that had once been my SUV. I couldn't see all of the damage from where I was, but I could tell it was significant. Once they removed me, they put me on a stretcher, ignoring my protests. The police officer walked to the rescue vehicle with me. "Can you please call my kids for me? Or better yet, can someone go by?" I pleaded. "They're at home alone. I was just going to the grocery store. My son Emmett's there, he's almost fifteen. He's watching his brothers."

The officer nodded and gave me a reassuring smile, then I was being loaded up and the doors closed before I could give him Edward's information. Shit. Emmett would be so scared when the cops pulled up. I should have told them to call Edward first. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The trip to the hospital didn't take long, but with every bump they hit, my foot throbbed. I bit my tongue trying to keep from screaming and they wouldn't leave me the hell alone. Poking and prodding and asking the same stupid questions over and over again.

Then all I could think about was how my boys were going to feel when the cops knocked on the door.

_Two men at the door…_

Fuck.

Two men in uniform at the door had never been anything but bad news and they knew it. They had lived through it once already. I could only hope that Emmett would think to call someone, preferably Edward. Or Alice. Either would be a good choice to get them to the hospital, but I admitted to myself that I really, really wanted Edward.

I started to cry a little bit as they wheeled me into the ER, feeling totally pathetic because all I really wanted to do was bury myself in Edward's embrace and just sob out the lingering tension and fear. But I couldn't. I didn't have that luxury.

And Edward wasn't there.

They x-rayed me, prodded me, and poked me again for good measure. They asked me if I knew where I was, _who_ I was, and what the date was. By the time the doctor came in the little room to examine me, I was feeling good and sorry for myself. My body was shaking with the leftover adrenalin, my foot was aching, my head hurt, and I was suffering from a damn near terminal case of unrelieved sexual tension.

All in all, I was not having a good day.

I wanted to know how my boys were doing. I wanted to see them and hold them so that they would know I was safe. I wanted to smell Edward's warm, masculine scent and know that he'd help watch over my sons and reassure them that I was okay. Then the nurse, an overeager young fellow who probably wasn't much older than Emmett either (and that made me feel very, very old) told me he had a shot for the pain.

I didn't mind needles much anymore; you can't give birth four times and still get squigged out about needles too much. But honestly, was it too much to ask that they just leave me the hell alone until I at least saw my boys? I couldn't even find my fucking purse to use my cell phone to call them. For all I knew, my purse was still in the wreckage.

I could feel the tears threatening again and I hated that.

The doctor blathered on about a cast for my foot and didn't _that_ news just make my day even brighter? Then he left me to the tender mercies of my nurse. The nurse grabbed my arm (eager much?) "Just give me a minute," I grumbled. Then he jabbed me with the needle. "And are you aiming for the bone with that needle, pal? If so, you've hit pay dirt."

Fuck. That hurt.

I scowled up at him, giving him my best patented teacher look to let him know I was keeping an eye on him and his needle-wielding hands.

"That pain medication should start working soon. The doctor will be in here to get that cast on you." He talked to me like I was an idiot. I wanted to punch him in the face but I didn't need the paperwork. Mac had taught me how to throw a punch and I was damned good at it. That nurse had better watch it.

"Let me see my family before you start torturing me with your cast. Okay?"

"Now, ma'am." He was trying to soothe me and I just wasn't going to be soothed damn it. I wanted my sons and I wanted my Edward and I wanted them_ now_. I'd go Veruca Salt on his ass if I had to.

"Don't _ma'am_ me. My foot is aching like a bitch and you're talking to me like I'm a grandmother." I wanted to laugh in his face, but instead I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed a little. He had no fucking idea who he was messing with. I was starting to feel a little…floaty.

It was kind of nice actually.

I blinked and the curtain around my bed moved.

There they were…the five faces that made my life complete. Emmett, looking worried but smiling a little when he saw me. Seth, holding Jake's hand. Sam, his eyes mentally taking inventory of my injuries and probably calculating recovery times for the lot of them. Jake's little face lighting up with a smile.

And Edward. My Edward.

"I'll be back," the nurse said. I wanted to give him the bird but my hands weren't very cooperative. They were kind of floaty too.

Edward got that sexy little smirk and I wondered how he'd look making that face between my thighs. I thought that I probably shouldn't ask that question out loud. "Making friends already?" he asked.

My sons smiled but their faces looked kind of odd. I wondered if they were feeling floaty too. I liked the sound of that word.

Floaty.

It was a pretty word.

"Did you know that airbags literally _stink_ when they explode?" It seemed really important to tell him that. He _needed_ to know shit like that. Someone should alert the media too."Like the stench makes you want to vomit."

"Really?" Edward asked, and he looked funny for a minute. Not floaty funny, just different. I took a deep breath and remembered what I had wanted earlier – my boys, _all _my boys.

"My boys," I breathed.

And I knew I was going to be all right. Because I was just floating along where nothing could hurt me.

I liked floaty. Floaty was good.

Edward was good.

I wanted to lick Edward.

He had a nice neck. And nipples. Those were some very nice nipples. And ears. Nice lobes.

I needed more batteries.

**~THTF~**

**Author's Note: Veruca Salt is the spoiled brat in Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.**


	15. Chapter 15: Countdown Mac's POV

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#15: Countdown**

**June 7, 2006 – Mac's POV**

I closed the door to Jake's and Sam's bedroom as quietly as I could. They had finally fallen asleep, though not without a few tears on Jake's part. I was leaving tomorrow. I glanced at my watch. I had less than eight hours left at home and I needed to use every second of that time wisely. I took a deep breath before I walked down the short hallway toward the bedroom where my wife waited for me.

At least, I hoped she was. I knew that at this point I really shouldn't take anything for granted. I put my hand on the doorknob to our bedroom but I hesitated there. She was still angry, though the arguments had stopped a few days ago. Once she had realized that nothing she said was going to change my mind, Bella had gone into her silent mode. It's what she adopted when she was well and truly furious.

I stood there in the hallway, my hand touching the door and still I couldn't bring myself to open it. Would she welcome me into our bed on this last night or was her anger too deep for that?

I sighed and opened the door, trusting in the Bella I knew. No matter how mad she was, I knew she wouldn't waste this – our last night together for a long time.

She was sitting on the foot of the bed, absently brushing her hair. The news was on, which probably wouldn't work in my favor. I glanced at the small screen. Just my luck, they were talking about the war and the latest casualties. Bella gave me a sad smile and picked up the remote, clicking it off. She got up and put the brush on the dresser and turned to me.

She was wearing one of my old Army tee-shirts. I decided to take that as a good sign. If she had intended to turn me away, she would have been wearing sweat pants and toe socks along with that shirt, what she called her "no go zone" clothes. Thankfully, I had only seen her don that get up a handful of times in our marriage and all of them because I had screwed up big time or she was sick with the flu.

Bella didn't use our lovemaking as a weapon, but I was still susceptible to her emotions. If she wasn't happy with me it was difficult to put her in the mood for lovemaking. It was how she was wired. I accepted that. Just as she accepted that I was pretty much good to go, any time, almost any place, but only with her.

If she had been in sexy lingerie, it would have signaled that all was forgiven. I hadn't earned that yet. That was okay, because at least I knew Bella was being honest in her reactions. She would never send me away with a lie on her lips.

I approached her cautiously, my hands held out for her. Tenderly, she put her slender hands in mine and grasped tightly. Then she was wrapping her arms around my waist and holding on tight.

I released the breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Bella," I breathed, burying my nose in her hair. "God I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered as she tilted her head up, inviting my kiss. I didn't need any more encouragement. My mouth covered hers and I groaned at the feeling of her warm tongue sliding against mine. Fuck I was going to miss her…miss this.

My arms tightened around her and she gave a little grunt, reminding me to loosen my grip a little bit. I did so, whispering my apology as I kissed the shell of her ear before moving to her earlobe where I nibbled a bit.

She sighed and her head fell back, revealing the beautiful lines of her throat to me. "Bella, sweetheart," I murmured. "You're so fucking beautiful."

Then I picked her up and carried her to the bed, our familiar bed where we'd spent so many nights of our marriage loving each other, mad at each other, just enjoying the simple comfort of each other's presence. This was our haven, our little harbor in a very busy life. I wanted to savor the memory of this night, I wanted to pull it out and examine it over and over again in the months to come when I'd be sleeping in a tent under a foreign sky fighting in a war that I wasn't really sure I understood.

I knew from hard experience that the year ahead would be filled with hardship and terror, but mostly it would be lonely. That bone-deep loneliness that left a physical ache in its wake. I'd miss Bella like an amputee missed a limb, the phantom pains enough to drive me crazy.

And I was doing it to myself.

I pushed away the thoughts that would start the merry-go-round all over again. The decision had been made, and it was too late in any case to change my mind now. It had seemed the right thing to do at the time, but now…

Now, holding my wife and knowing I'd hurt with the loneliness and knowing that tomorrow night she was going to get into our bed alone and stay that way for the next twelve months – well that was killing me.

I shoved aside the comforter and placed her on the pale yellow sheets. Her hair spread out on the pillow and I knew I'd always remember her like this – the sadness and love in her eyes, the way her hair was curling over the edge of the pillow, the inviting smile that trembled just a little bit.

Unable to wait any longer, I lowered myself to the bed, resting my weight on my elbows. Bella shook her head and pulled me down, urging me to place my body on hers. I did so carefully. We both sighed at the contact and for the moment, it was enough.

Her legs soon edged up around my hips, encouraging my own to move. We both hissed as my erection brushed against her heat. I could tell by her breathing that she was getting worked up already. That faint blush on her cheeks, the way she held her breath a second for giving a little moan.

God yes…

Her hands tugged at the waistband of my shorts and her feet finished the job. She pushed them off and flung them to the floor with her toes. I laughed and whispered, "Monkey toes…"

We kissed again, but this time it was urgent and fierce, as if our mouths were memorizing each other all over again. It was the first time and the last – it was everything. I slipped the tee-shirt she wore up over her arms and it joined my shorts on the floor. Her breasts were bouncing slightly every time I pushed my hips into hers.

They were beautiful and I couldn't resist kissing them.

She groaned and tugged at my hair. She loved it when I sucked her nipples so I drew on them strongly, feeling her tremble beneath me. I loved feeling and watching her coming apart – knowing it was my touch that affected her so strongly.

"Mac!" she cried out softly and I knew it was time.

I guided my cock to her entrance, rubbing up and down her wet slit. She was so warm and wet for me and I slid into her with a sigh of pleasure and contentment.

This was it, this was heaven.

Our movements were slow, and we whispered words of love and appreciation to each other as I moved inside of her. Silly things, and things of great consequence that no other person on earth would ever hear or know about - secrets that were ours alone. I told her that she had saved me the day she married me, but I'm not sure she heard me because at that moment she shattered and I followed after her with a harsh cry.

Later, she fell asleep in my arms. I didn't sleep. I couldn't. I didn't want to waste this precious time by sleeping. Instead, I held her and I watched the clock, watched the minutes flying by, the countdown the last of our time together.

**~THTF~**

This was it, the moment of truth as it were. They were calling for us to walk toward the runway where the big transport planes would take us on the first leg of our journey to the other side of the world. We were surrounded by a lot of people, their voices and their tears mingling into a sad backdrop around us. We were all sneaking in some last good-byes.

But I could only see Bella and our boys. I knelt down and hugged Jake. "I know when I get back you'll be really big, but just remember that you're always gonna be my special little guy. Okay?" Jake nodded and smiled shyly. I was going to miss his birthday, which was coming up soon. I had already bought a present and a card for him; Bella would give it to him on his special day. "And don't forget to think about Daddy." I tapped the Spiderman watch on his wrist. I had set it to Baghdad time so he would know what his daddy was doing. Jake threw his arms around me and hugged tight.

I moved to Sam after Jake released me. I ruffled his hair. "I know you'll be starting school again before too long. You go and show them how smart you are, but don't forget to have some fun too. Okay?" Sam sniffed and nodded. He looked up at Emmett, probably to see how he should behave. He was at that age now.

"I will Dad," Sam said. "And I'll take care of Mom too."

"I know you will, Sammy," I assured him.

Seth shifted on his feet. He hated any sort of disagreement, confrontation, or unhappiness. Things were pretty much miserable for all of us right now, so Seth wasn't a happy camper. "Keep your brothers straight, Seth. You're the only one who can talk sense into them when they get to acting like a James." It was an old joke between us. Out of all the boys, Seth was the only one who hadn't inherited my temper. He was more like his Grandpa Charlie, calm and casual, deliberate in his actions, taking life in stride. He was our peacekeeper.

"I won't let them get away with too much," Seth promised.

Then I was standing in front of Emmett. He was off a little way from his mother and brothers. I looked into his eyes, so much like my own, and recognized that he was the most like me. I felt bad about that, but there wasn't much I could do about genetics. He'd suffer and learn to control his wild side, just like I had. He was much luckier though; he had Bella for a mother and a father who loved him deeply, however imperfectly it might be.

"You're going," he said in a flat voice. Oh shit. He knew enough to know I was going because I had volunteered. I could see it in his eyes. I could also see that he hadn't really believed I would actually do it until today – until he saw me getting ready to step onto that plane.

"Yes," I said quietly. "I have to."

"No, you don't," Emmett replied in a whisper. He met my eyes. "You want to go."

"I don't want to go," I said. "But I have to. You'll understand the difference one day."

He wanted to believe me, wanted to think the best of me. So he did. That was Bella in him; perhaps he wasn't so much like me after all. "Okay," he finally said. "I'll watch out for her."

"I know," I said simply. "You'll always look out for your mom. That makes me feel so much better, Em. You have no idea."

He nodded stiffly. "Okay then." Like me, he didn't like to use ten words when two would do the job. We understood each other. I hugged him and he hugged back. I was grateful.

Bella wrapped her arms around me and placed a fierce kiss on my mouth, uncaring of the presence of others or the curious eyes of our sons. "I love you, McCarty James," she said quietly. "So remember to take good care of yourself and get in touch as soon as you can or I'll hunt you down in that desert and kick you in the balls - hard."

"I'll be good; I'll be careful." The ferocity left her eyes, leaving behind only sorrow.

"I love you, Mac, with everything I am." She got on her tip toes. "No matter what, I love you. Don't forget that." She hadn't said she forgave me, but she told me she loved me. That was the important thing; everything else could be worked out if she loved me.

I wanted to cry, but I was surrounded by soldiers. Yeah, I wouldn't be the first, but I couldn't do it. I know she saw the tears in my eyes before I blinked them away.

Then they were calling us and I had to let her go.

I walked away, promising myself I wouldn't look back but I did.

She was staring at me. She smiled, but it was shaky. I gave her one last wave and turned to board the plane that would take me away from them.


	16. Chapter 16: For Their Own Good

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephanie Meyers. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

Here's a sneak peek at Alyssa, Masen's wife. This takes place during chapter 24 of Bigger, which will be posted tomorrow.

**#16 For Their Own Good**

I watched as Edward and his blond "twin" walked out of my house. I had seen pictures of them in the Cullens' house, of course. But seeing them together, the way they moved in the same fluid, graceful way, the way their eyes crinkled up identically when they smiled, the similar sound of their voices… It was all a little disconcerting. And then there was this goddess, Alyssa. Her pictures hadn't come close to doing her justice.

I looked at her. Once I got over the shock of her stunning looks, I knew I would probably be intimidated by her. I mean, normal people don't look like that, do they? And if a person does look like that, they end up plastered all over the magazines at the check out stand. Edward and his brother were gorgeous, of course, but Alyssa was…

She turned her face toward me and wrinkled up her nose. "Boys stink," she muttered.

Just like that, I realized that it really didn't matter what she looked like. This woman and I could be friends. She was, above all other things, simply very _kind_. You didn't have to be in her presence more than a few moments to realize that. I nodded in agreement. "Literally."

She looked serious for a moment and then she laughed. "Come on, show me toward the kitchen. I want to make some coffee so I can stay up longer and harass my husband while he tries to zonk out. I live for that."

"Now you get to harass him on a whole different time zone."

Alyssa sighed happily. "Life is good."

We went into the kitchen and I started some coffee brewing. Alyssa searched through the cabinets and found coffee mugs. "Okay, I'll talk fast while they're gone," she finally said as we settled in at the small table in the kitchen. "This is _Dating a Cullen 101_ and class is in session."

I laughed and took a sip of my coffee. Alyssa smirked. "Well, I suppose the first thing I should tell you is that all of them are insane – even Mama Cullen. Maybe _especially_ Mama Cullen."

"She seemed so sweet," I murmured.

"Oh she is, no doubt about that. I love her as much as I love my own mother. But that doesn't mean she isn't crazy." Alyssa nodded sagely. "Seriously, where do you think Masen got it?"

"His father?" In truth, Dr. Cullen had seemed very sweet and soft-spoken.

"Out of all of them, Carlisle is the most normal, though that isn't saying much," Alyssa informed me. "But crazy isn't a bad thing necessarily, it just means that a girl has to sort of prepare herself for the whole "Cullen" experience."

"The Cullen Experience?"

"Well, I'm not sure _exactly_ how Edward operates, but I've got some good guesses based on having known him for almost twenty years. And in a lot of ways, he and Masen are a lot alike. That's one of the reasons they get on each other's nerves so much – they know exactly which buttons to push." That sounded familiar. I had seen it in action in my own boys often enough.

"When did you meet Masen?"

"Our freshman year of college," Alyssa replied. "He was dating some Barbie – just as blond and perfect as he was." She sighed and shrugged. "I wanted to rock his world, but he was…stubborn."

"How so?"

"It was just…" Alyssa said. "At first, he tried to do the whole "friends" thing with me. Probably because I went out with his roommate a few times. Of course, he was dating mine so that made things awkward right there."

"Awkward," I agreed.

"Then our freshman year was over and I went home for the summer. When I got back, it appeared that Masen had finally grown a set and he asked me out." She winked at me. "I made him suffer for a while – just because he'd made _me_ wait so long – but I finally took pity on him and let him see what he'd been missing." She sighed and took another sip of coffee. "And we've been together ever since."

"That's so sweet," I said.

"Yes, well, you need to be prepared. The Cullens are a force unto themselves…sort of like, I don't know…an avalanche or something. They'll just sort of absorb you into their craziness and you won't know what hit you."

"I'm already insane," I felt compelled to confess.

"Aren't we all?" Alyssa asked. She reached over and patted my hand. "But you don't know how good it is to know that Edward's finally met his match."

"I don't know-"

She squeezed my hand and shook her head. "I know, it's a lot to wrap your head around. I get that, I really do."

I paused and looked into my coffee cup like all of the answers would magically be there. "He's…" I sighed. "He makes me feel things I thought I was done with," I finally admitted quietly. I had no idea why I was spilling my guts to this spectacular looking woman. Maybe it was the kindness that was evident in her unusual eyes, or maybe it was just that I needed someone to talk to – the last two days had been eventful to say the least.

"And you're making him feel things he thought weren't for him," Alyssa pointed out with a gentle smile. "As long as I've known Edward, there's been this part of him that held out…stood on the outside sort of looking in…just holding back." She took another sip of coffee. "I asked Mase about it once and he told me that Edward really thought that the whole falling in love thing just wasn't in the cards for him."

"Why?"

"Well, part of it was that bitch, Lilith," Alyssa gave a small snort. "I'm surprised Edward's dick didn't turn into a popsicle and snap off as cold as that woman was." I gaped at her; the words were completely unexpected. I felt a giggle welling up inside of me and finally I gave into it. She gave me an impudent wink. "Yeah, I really said that." She paused and tilted her head. "Honestly, sometimes I think I've been around Masen too long. He rubs off on me."

"So Lilith really threw him for a loop?"

Alyssa thought about that for a moment. "Well, it wasn't her so much as the fact that Edward got this idea that _he_ wasn't enough, that what he had to offer wasn't enough for a long term commitment. He sort of crawled into a shell and decided that if all he really had to offer a woman was casual, then he'd do that to the best of his ability."

"Casual, huh?" I was amused at the idea of the tender, attentive man I'd come to know over the past months being, in one sense of the word, promiscuous. Had he been? We hadn't really talked about that part of his life. To be perfectly fair, he had never told me he wasn't dating anyone else now. I knew he wasn't, but it wasn't something we had discussed. Honestly, the man wouldn't have time considering how often he was at my house or we were at his.

Alyssa rolled her eyes. "That boy gave new meaning to no strings attached," she said. "It's funny, but I'm sure if you asked him, he'd tell you that he just got involved with women who didn't want anything more." She smirked at me. "When in reality, the man had this uncanny ability to start pulling away the instant any woman began to want more from him than sex."

"Pull away?"

She shook her head. "Masen and I used to laugh. Then we got concerned, and finally we decided that he was going to end up alone because Edward had this way of wriggling out of anything resembling a commitment. He was sweet and kind and a gentleman, but any woman who wanted more was very politely but firmly let down and away he walked. The experience with Claire just sort of cemented that tendency and Edward continued on his merry way." She looked at me pointedly. "Until you."

"Me?"

Alyssa quirked one brow at me. "Girl, he's got it so bad for you," she murmured. "Masen could tell even before he talked to him." She laughed and shook her head. "Once he actually talked to Edward, Mase told me that his big brother had finally fallen – hard and permanently for someone." She sighed. "And I couldn't be happier, to tell the truth."

"Why?" I was amused. Alyssa sounded very protective over Edward and I wondered if that was a common theme among all the Cullens, born or married into the family.

"Edward's one of the…_nicest_ guys I know," Alyssa said. "And he's been content with his life, but not _happy_, you know what I mean? We've wanted him to be happy, to have what we have. But it just never happened for him." I did know what she meant about being content but not happy. "I know Masen can be an ass, but he's _my_ ass, and I love him and I love our life together." Her lips quirked. "Edward's always been the serious brother and Masen has always been the class clown. It works for him, and God knows it makes him very good at what he does for a living." Alyssa shook her head. "But Edward's always was kind of left out…separated from everyone else in a way. Partly because of circumstances, partly out of choice, but I've always wanted him to find that special someone that would complete his life." She reached out and patted my hand. "Now I think he has."

"Oh." I didn't know what to say. My feelings for Edward were so new, and we had yet to _really_ begin exploring them. Earlier today, as we had struggled with our feelings, I had gotten the notion that we were finally at that point where we were ready to move on to the next stage of our relationship. Where that might lead us, I wasn't sure. I didn't think Edward was either – but we were both open to possibilities.

Alyssa squeezed my hand again. "Listen, I just wanted you to know, Edward is good people. You can trust him. He won't hurt you…or your boys."

"I know," I said quietly. And I _did_ know. It was the one thing I was sure of – Edward was a good man.

"So if you can forgive him his crazy brother, just give him a chance," Alyssa teased.

"Masen is adorable," I told her. "Mostly because he makes Edward absolutely crazed."

"I know, it's just so much fun to watch, isn't it?"

She got up and poured more coffee. "Anyway, I wanted you to know that I understand, as a mother, that your boys are your first priority. Especially given the circumstances with their father's death." I liked the fact that Alyssa was plain spoken about Mac's death. Too many people tried to soften the blow with words like "passed away" or "lost." But Mac wasn't lost. I knew exactly where his body was – Mac was dead. He was never coming back; he'd never be found. Mac was dead, and sometimes it was a relief to just hear someone say it plainly. "But Edward can be trusted, not only with your heart, but those of your sons." Alyssa smiled. "Edward Cullen is a rare breed among men, and don't tell him I said this, but so is Masen. You and I are two very lucky women, Bella James."

"Me especially," I said.

Alyssa tilted her head and looked at me curiously. I smiled at her. "Well first I had Mac, and I loved him and he loved me." I shrugged. "He was one of the good ones too and he was mine." I laughed. "And now…" I took a deep breath. "All I know is that just when I thought I was done with those kinds of feelings and all of that was gone from my life forever…there comes along Edward Cullen." I sighed. "Yeah, we're pretty lucky."

"But we never reveal this fact to them under pain of death," Alyssa deadpanned.

"Oh, that's a given," I replied.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you," Alyssa returned with a wicked grin. "Oh the knots you and I can tie them into…"

"It'll be fun watching them squirm, won't it?" I asked.

Alyssa nodded. "The best."

I heard the door open and I raised my mug in a toast. "To the Cullen men and the women who annoy them." I kept my voice low.

"Only with the best of intentions, of course," Alyssa said with great solemnity. "And for their own good."

"For their own good," I repeated.


	17. Chapter 17: Conversations in the Dark

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephanie Meyers. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

Author's Note: This is a conversation between Alyssa and Masen after they've met Bella for the first time.

**# 17 Conversations in the Dark**

We finally got the boys settled into bed. By the time we left Bella's house they were overly tired and whiny. It had taken Alyssa's magic touch to get them to give into their fatigue. If I had gone in there, they would have tried to get me play. They probably would have succeeded and Alyssa would have been pissed and then all four of us would have ended up cranky.

And, most importantly, she wouldn't be snuggled so comfortably into my arms right now, I thought with a sort of sleepy satisfaction. I kissed the curls that were tickling my nose. Her hair really was wild and after a full day of traveling and meeting what I was sure would eventually be the new sister-in-law, it was a riot. She had full on crazy woman hair.

I pressed it down and laughed. "You've got your 'fro on, girl," I whispered.

"Don't make fun of my hair," she murmured quietly. "Just because I don't have boring old Caucasian hair doesn't mean you get to insult the hair, Masen Cullen." There was no heat in her voice and this was an old and familiar discussion.

"I love your crazy woman hair," I told her. She humphed and snuggled in closer. She was still for a moment and then groaned and flopped onto her back, one long leg whipping out to rest over mine. She had missed my nuts by scant inches. When I instinctively jerked, she laughed at me.

"Don't worry about the boys," she teased. "I've got an athlete's reflexes. I'm not going to kick you in your precious jewels."

I grunted and adjusted them a little farther away from her leg anyway. Alyssa sometimes had a strange sense of humor that she didn't let many people see. She just might think it was funny to tease me by edging her leg up _real_ close to the boys and sort of brushing against them just to scare me.

Alyssa sighed again, a sound of frustration. She couldn't sleep. I knew all the signs. "You shouldn't have had that coffee," I said.

"Yeah, well, it tasted really good," Alyssa said. "It was worth a few hours of tossing and turning. Bella James makes a mean cup of joe."

"So what did you think of her?" I asked the question I had been dying to ask all night.

Alyssa laughed and turned toward me, sure enough sneaking her knee up a little higher. I cupped my balls and she laughed at me again. "I loved her," she whispered. "She's perfect for him."

"I thought so too," I replied. I laughed. "I never thought I'd see the day when my big brother fell in love – like the actual white-picket fence, let's raise kids together and make mortgage payments while we make each other crazy kind of love."

"Well you did," Alyssa said. "And you seemed to have handled the challenges of monogamy quite well," she teased.

"Ha ha," I said. "You know me, once I saw you, I accepted I was a one woman man. After you, no other woman would do." I kissed her mouth. One of the things I liked about Alyssa was her height. Her mouth was always right there near mine, just where I wanted it to be.

"What did you and Edward talk about?" Alyssa asked.

I snorted. "You know I can't tell you that. It's the Code, Lys,_ the_ _Code_. You never talk about Fight Club."

"What is it with that male fascination of that movie?" Alyssa asked, suddenly distracted. "I mean, God yes, Brad Pitt is hot, but I don't get the whole beating the hell out of each other for kicks thing."

"You don't have balls," I told her. "Of course you can't understand it."

"You're right, I forget that balls are the male stand-in for brains," Alyssa retorted. God, I loved her and her smart mouth. She was so laid back that not many people realized she had a biting wit.

Alyssa sighed again and wriggled even closer. "Keep that up lady and I'm going to end up doing naughty things to your body."

"And that's supposed to stop me?" Alyssa asked. Her hand slid down my chest and stopped at the waistband of my boxers. "Okay, consider me stopped." And she moved her hand away.

I groaned and hugged her close. "Tease," I accused.

"You should remember that sometimes," Alyssa advised me. "So…back to Edward and Bella."

"Must we?" I was nuzzling her neck. The boys were asleep and Edward was probably in his bathroom jerking off. Okay, problem solved. I groaned and rubbed my face with my free hand. "What about them?"

"Did you tell Edward that he needed to get Bella alone?" Alyssa asked, tracing random patterns on my chest.

"Yeah, of course," I told her. "I told him that he's got to take to time to rev her engine up."

I could see Alyssa roll her eyes. "You probably said it just like that didn't you?"

I was confused. Hadn't I just said that? "Well, yeah."

"Men…" Alyssa sighed. "Well, I got a chance to talk to Bella, while you guys were gone and I can tell you this – the lady has some serious hots for your brother."

"I just don't get it," I muttered.

"Okay, you don't get it," Alyssa grumbled. "But for the sake of argument, just believe me on this one. She wants to jump his bones like serious, big time, not come up for air jumping."

"Good, because Edward is about to jerk his dick right the fuck off." I had to laugh. That was still funny shit.

"Did you tell him about the foot massage?" Alyssa asked.

"Well duh, of course." I snorted. "I want him to get laid, not die a crusty old bachelor."

"The foot rub will rack up a lot of points," Alyssa assured me. "Don't you get lucky every time?"

"I thought it was my devastating good looks, my incomparable charm, and the fact that you worship the ground I walk on that got me lucky."

Alyssa thought it over for a moment and then shook her head. "Nope, it's definitely the foot rubs."

"Nice, Mrs. Cullen, very nice." 

She shrugged. "What can I say, I call them like I see them."

I pretended to pout. She didn't fall for it.

"Did you talk to Bella about us watching the boys at her house?" I finally asked, when I admitted that Lys wasn't going to "comfort" me.

"Of course," Alyssa said. "Didn't I give you the signal?"

"Yeah, but I didn't know if your nose really itched."

She shook her head. "Then I would have turned around and scratched it. Really, Masen, you'd think I was an amateur or something."

"Do you think we're interfering?" I asked after a moment of silence.

Alyssa immediately shook her head. "No, we're giving them an opportunity. What they make of that opportunity is up to them." She kissed my cheek. "I think it's sweet that you want to see your brother happy."

I laughed. "No, what I want is to see him handle four boys," I corrected her. "Being happy will just be a nice side effect."

"You're impossible, you know," Alyssa complained.

"But you love me," I reminded her.

"I do," she admitted. "God knows why, but I do."

"I should be insulted, but I still haven't figured out how I got so lucky," I told her.

"It was Be Kind to a Ken Doll week," she reminded me.

I didn't respond to that; it would only encourage her. "You're a strange woman, Alyssa Cullen."

"Hello Pot, meet Kettle."

"Point taken," I conceded.

Then Alyssa smiled. "Did you tell Edward about the job?"

"Fuck no," I said. "I haven't told Mom or Dad either."

"Edward is going to die," Alyssa said.

"Well, let's hope he gets lucky before he does."

"I think Bella would agree with that," Alyssa noted with a nod. She rested her head on my shoulder again and the nose tinkling commenced. Wild woman hair. "I think I'll like living here," she said. "Bella's boys are great. And it'll be nice for Alex and Kyle to have cousins so close, and your parents will just be a short drive away. Your mom is going to flip."

"Flip her shit," I agreed. The job had truly just fallen into my lap and it was a very happy coincidence that it would bring us closer to my family. A promotion and a move back home, all in one. I was indeed a very lucky man – and nothing proved that more than the woman beside me.

"Promise me one thing," Alyssa said.

"You've got it."

"I want to be there when you tell them. I want to see Edward's face," Alyssa said with a low laugh.

"You're evil."

"Been hanging around you too long; it was bound to happen," Alyssa said.

"True, true…" I leaned in close and whispered, "Come to the Dark Side, my young lovely."

Alyssa groaned and shook her head. "Good night," she said firmly. She rolled over, facing away from me, but that _did _put her absolutely spectacular ass pressed up against my side. So I did what any guy would do and turned so that I was nestling my dick against her ass. Ah…that was better.

"You're not getting any," Alyssa said.

"Okay," I agreed, snaking my hand around her waist. Then I grabbed her boob and closed my eyes. "Better than a security blanket any day."

Alyssa snorted and settled in closer. Shit. Dead puppies. Dad's hand up Mom's skirt. Edward jerking off… Okay, that did the trick. At least he came in handy sometimes.

Just before I felt myself getting ready to drift off, I leaned in to whisper in Alyssa's ear. "I love you, Lys. Thanks for being you, for making my life complete."

"You're welcome sweetie," she mumbled. "But you're still not getting any, I'm dead beat…"

I sighed and closed my eyes. It had been worth a shot.


	18. Chapter 18: Dr Big Shot

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**Author's Note: This takes place immediately after chapter 29 and is for those of you who might want to get to know Will and Josh just a little better.**

**# 18 Dr. Big Shot**

**Will's POV**

I turned to Josh and smirked. "You owe me twenty bucks," I told him.

Josh shook his head. "I can't believe she did that to me," he muttered. "I was _counting_ on her."

I grinned. "I told you that I knew my big sister, but you just wouldn't listen." I clucked my tongue at him. "When will you learn, Dr. Big Shot?"

Josh winked. "Maybe I should be from Missouri?" he suggested.

I rolled my eyes at him. "And Jake says thank you for the Legos. He said he got the biggest set that anyone in Fayetteville has ever seen."

Josh laughed and sat down on the couch. I plopped down beside him and we both propped our feet up on the coffee table. Josh put his arm around me and I snuggled a little closer. "So," he said. "Tell me all about Sergeant McSmoothie."

"God, I almost called him that – _twice_!" I gave Josh a light punch when he snorted at me. "It would have embarrassed him – _and_ me – so you'd better be glad I didn't. We need to call him Edward even here at home, or sure as hell I'm going to slip up."

"He might like being called Sergeant McSmoothie," Josh suggested with a sly smile.

"Maybe I could call you _Dr_. McSmoothie?" I teased.

"Anytime," Josh replied. "So, tell me all about the new man in your sister's life."

I settled back against Josh and thought about the phone call. "He was nervous, I could tell. He had already talked to Mom and Dad. And you know how Dad is," I gave Josh a pointed look and he grinned knowingly. Josh had been on the receiving end of one of Dad's "no corner of the earth remote enough" talks. "So I tried to ease his mind about them, well him. Mom is a whole different ball game, but she'll love him as much as she loves you, so there wasn't much damage control to do there."

It was true; my mother adored Josh. Sometimes I thought she liked him more than me. It didn't hurt that Josh was a plastic surgeon, polite and well-mannered, not to mention good-looking and with a heart of gold. But you couldn't help but like Josh, as I had discovered myself. I had no doubts that this Edward would find Josh both charming and kind – because he was.

"And how did Sergeant McSmoothie take the big news?" Josh asked, his voice revealing his amusement.

"_Edward_ was just fine, thank you very much," I replied. "In all honesty, I think Edward was more upset that Bella hadn't told him than anything else. He didn't seem to hesitate when I told him that the boys had two uncles." I laughed and shook my head. "He did say something about how drowning kittens wasn't nice, but other than that he seemed like a really nice, sane guy – very normal and down-to-earth. He didn't seem like a muscle bound meathead or anything."

"Well he wouldn't be the man for Bella if he was," Josh reminded me.

"True."

"So how do the boys feel about him?' Josh continued because we both knew that would be the sticking point for Bella. If the boys hated him, he wouldn't stand a chance no matter h_ow_ Bella felt about him.

"Jake adores him," I said. "And he's going to teach Seth how to play the guitar. He took Sam to some science exhibit and that was enough to seal the deal with Sam."

"And Emmett?" Josh asked with a grin.

"Well now, that's interesting," I said. "Em really wasn't impressed at the start of things you know." Josh nodded. He did know. Emmett had called us to tell us all about the interloper in their lives and what he had had to say had not been flattering. Luckily, we had both realized that Emmett was upset about a lot more than a man who found his mother beautiful. "But now he's singing a slightly different tune. Apparently, something that McSmoo – _damn_ it, that's all _your_ fault – _Edward_ said resonated with our Em and he's willing to concede that perhaps, just maybe, Edward is an okay guy and will make his mother happy."

"Ah, Emmett…he wouldn't give in easily, would he?"

"He wouldn't be Emmett if he did," I observed. "But really, I think Emmett's impressed and willing to give Edward the benefit of the doubt." I grinned. "It seems Bella had a little car accident-"

"What?" Josh sat up straight and I patted his arm.

"She's fine, just a hurt foot," I told him. He would fret and worry so I had to soothe him right away. "But it seems that Edward stepped right in, took the boys to the hospital-"

"Hospital?" Josh was looking more and more concerned.

"Can I finish?" I asked, settling him down on the couch once more. Swear to God, the man was like a little old lady when it came to Bella and those boys. "Anyway, he took the boys to the ER and they saw that their mom was fine and he took them all home and stayed the night to watch over her and everything."

"But Bella is okay?" Josh pressed.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Do you think I'd be discussing this so calmly if she _wasn't_?"

"Good point," Josh agreed with a frown. Then his expression cleared. "So he's worthy of our Bella?" Josh asked. "And our boys?"

Once more I settled in against Josh. "I think so, J, I really do."

Josh gave a satisfied smile and leaned back, taking me with him. "That's great news, Will, really great news."

Josh had been as heartbroken as I was when Mac died. He had dropped everything when Bella needed us, and I had fallen even more in love with him at that moment. He could have easily claimed that his practice kept him in California, but instead he had been on a plane with me, flying to my sister and nephews, within three hours of her phone call.

That was real love.

He had tended to the boys while I comforted my sister. He had cooked for them, done the laundry, kept the nosy neighbors at bay, and just been there for all of them. He had given them a shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to when they needed it. Josh had been there for me too. I wasn't sure I would have made it through it all without Josh. It was an exhausting process, getting Mac home and making arrangements, and Bella had been in a state of shock. I had taken on a lot of it myself just because it was the right thing to do.

Together, we had been there for her. He had held my hand while I called my parents to let them know of Mac's death. He had helped me make other calls that needed to be made. Josh had been steady and solid, the only thing I felt I could count on in those difficult days. Sad as it was, Mac's death had brought us closer, made us realize that what we shared was going to last and that we were it for each other. It had been a turning point in our relationship because we realized how tenuous happiness could be. And we wanted to grab it while we could.

The thought that Bella would never have that feeling again had been difficult for both of us. We each loved her and wanted her to be happy. We wanted the boys to be happy. And Mac's death had left a gaping hole in their lives that would not be easy to fill.

I had a good feeling about Sergeant McSmoothie – _Edward _- however. Talking to him had relieved my mind and given me some insight into his head. Just as Mac had been a good and decent man, so was Edward. He wouldn't hurt her or the boys, and that was all I cared about. It was just a bonus that I thought he would get along with me and Josh.

I sighed happily and placed a tender kiss on Josh's neck. "It will be nice to know she's happy," I said softly.

"And all it took was a busted windshield," he teased.

I looked up at him and grinned. "Well, all it took for us was one high school speech and here we are."

"True," he conceded. "I looked across that crowded gymnasium and thought to myself 'Hey now!'"

"Very eloquent," I teased.

Josh shrugged. "What can I say? My libido was in charge at that point, not my heart."

"Well I was quite prepared to hate you on sight," I reminded him. "Dr. Big Shot, coming in to corrupt all of my students with his dreams of big cars and big houses and meaningless lives." I shook my head. "And then you completely blew me away talking about serving the community, the world…" The memory of seeing him standing there, listening to his words, was particularly vivid. "I was a goner from that moment on."

"So what you're saying is that you and your sister fall in love in weird ways," Josh teased.

"Listen here, Dr. Galloway," I said, sitting up.

Josh smirked and pulled me in for a sweet kiss. "Don't get your temper up, Swan."

I settled back against him and remembered that first meeting. Dr. Joshua Galloway, plastic surgeon, had been slated to speak to the students on career day. I had hated him on principle before I ever spoke to him. He wore an expensive suit, seemed standoffish, and all I knew was that he was one of the leading cosmetic surgeons in the area. I had judged a book by its cover, something I should have known better than to do.

Then he began speaking. All of my preconceived notions of what and who he was flew out the window and I was left standing there in awe. Before I even knew he was gay, I was a little in love with him. That might have proven a tad awkward if he _wasn't_ gay, granted. Instead of talking about making money and living the high life, he had told the students how they should use any influence they had to make the world a better place. He told them how they needed to use their talents and gifts, whatever they were, to do something good for someone else as well as themselves.

He didn't just preach it; he lived it. Josh volunteered a few surgery days every month to help those in need. Yes, the usual boob jobs and tummy tucks provided his very generous income, but instead of filling his practice with such patients, he struck a nice balance. Twice a year he even traveled to third world countries with a team of physicians, correcting deformities and transforming lives.

How could I _not _love him?

After the speech was over, the principal had thrown a little after school get together for him. Mr. Hanson was probably trying to get a free face lift for his wife or something but it had given me a chance to get closer to him so I wasn't going to argue.

I approached him and a look of something like relief had crossed his handsome face. After talking to him for a few moments, I realized that what I had seen as being aloof was in reality shyness. The big shot doctor was shy. But he had opened up to me, quietly answering my questions and asking his own. The other people in the room just somehow disappeared, leaving Josh and me in our own little bubble.

"Does your wife mind you traveling?" I finally asked. I had to know. I had gotten a glimmer of intuition, but the matter could be extremely delicate. Some people took offense. My question gave him a way to let me know what I needed to know – if he wanted to answer.

"No wife," Josh replied quietly. "No girlfriend." He smiled at me, his eyes briefly meeting mine. "My relationship ended about a year ago." Once more, blue eyes flickered up to mine. "He moved away. Nothing traumatic, no drama, just over." He shrugged. "I guess that's not very interesting."

But it _was_ interesting, very much so. And I knew what I needed to know. The rest, as they say, was history.

Now, it seemed as if my sister had found her someone special – again. If anyone deserved to find love twice, it was Bella.

Bella, who had been my guardian and my champion for as long as I could remember, deserved the best. When I was little, she kissed my skinned knees. When I was older, she nursed my bruised heart. When I told Mom and Dad that I was gay, it was Bella holding my hand and standing up for me. It was Bella who finally made Dad understand, in some small way, what I was going through. Bella was the one who had accepted me just as I was, no reservations or conditions. Everyone should feel that kind of love at least once in their life. I was lucky enough to have had it since the day I was born. It was a gift beyond measure.

When Mac had died, I had seen how it shattered Bella and her sons. I wanted nothing more than to make it all better, but it was a wound beyond my help. The past two years had been difficult for all of us, but for Bella they had been hell. She had moved away, and I understood her reasons. She wanted a fresh start and there were practical reasons for accepting the job in North Carolina. Her money would simply go farther there. There were too many memories on the West coast, and eventually Mom and Dad would probably retire in the east. They would want to be near their grandchildren. Josh and I had no desire for children, so Bella was their only shot at immortality, so to speak.

But Bella was alone, even with the four boys, and we knew it. Josh and I had worried and mourned, but Bella had been adamant that no man could touch her heart again. Even when I told her she had needs, physical needs, she had laughed and asked what a vibrator was for.

"A battery operated device can't hold you when you're scared," I had told her. "It can't reassure you or love you or just hold your hand."

"I've had that, Will," Bella had said firmly. "I'm not so stupid to think that I'll find it twice in my life. No one is that lucky."

It seemed, however, that fate was going to prove Bella wrong and I couldn't be happier. Bella had a special and tender heart, and she deserved to find happiness – twice.

I reached up and pulled Josh's lips to mine. "We're lucky in love, we Swans," I murmured.

Josh laughed softly and returned the kiss. "No, I think that it's those who love Swans who are lucky."

It was no wonder I loved this man.


	19. Chapter 19: Sweet Love Bella & Mac

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**Author's Note: I've referenced this little incident twice and now here it is. It's just for fun, doesn't do anything to advance the story or anything. I just wanted to write it.**

**#19 Sweet Love**

Megan had given me a heads up. Thomas had called her to let her know that he was taking Mac and another guy home. I expected he would bring Mac home last since Mac would be the most trouble. His sheer size alone pretty much guaranteed that. It was hard to move that much man.

Somehow, I wasn't surprised when I heard all the banging and muffled curses downstairs. In fact, I had been expecting it. I looked at the clock. Three in the morning…that was about right.

"Thanss for getting me home buddy," I heard Mac yell.

"Quiet down, James," Thomas hissed.

"You better be quiet," Mac roared. "Or Bella will have your balls." Then he laughed at his own wit.

I couldn't help but smile. I got out of bed and walked out into the living room. My feet were bare and it was getting cold here.

There was Mac, sort of leaning against Thomas. They both gave me wide grins. Mac's was a little wobbly. Thomas looked sober, which made sense since he had driven Mac home.

"Hey darlin'!" Mac yelled out and I shushed him.

"You look like you had a good time," I said dryly.

"Thomas here's a daddy," Mac told me solemnly. "And we had to cele…cele…we had to have fun."

It took a while but he got it. Sort of. I shook my head at him. "I see that."

Mac looked at Thomas, who was probably the only guy in his unit that was big enough to actually support Mac's weight. "We celee…berated didn't we buddy?"

Thomas nodded. "We sure did." He looked at me. "Good thing that Megan told me not to get drunk or she'd have my balls," he said with a smirk. Megan had told me that she had informed her husband that if she couldn't drink because she was nursing his baby, then there was no way in hell _he_ was going to either. Fair was fair, after all. "His car is still at the bar. I figured you could take him to get it tomorrow." Mac would be very grateful that he didn't have to work tomorrow, though I might just force him to mow the lawn or something just to teach him a lesson.

Mac looked at me as if he was having trouble focusing. "He's got a kid now, sweetheart," he told me. "A little boy. Isn't that great?" He thumped Thomas on the back. "You're gonna be a great dad," he assured his friend. "And just be grateful you had a boy. No fucker is gonna get him...her…your kid pregnant!" Mac frowned at me. "Right, sweetheart?"

"Right, Mac," I said, unable to keep from laughing. He really was an adorable drunk, so earnest. And so _loud_.

"Sweetheart," Mac said, stumbling forward. "I missed you. I really did. It was lonely there." He took a few steps closer and then leaned against me and I groaned. It was no easy job supporting six and a half feet of pure muscle. He tried to right himself but was still pretty unsteady on his feet. "This nassy skank tried to pick me up," he confided loudly. "But I told her I had the best wife in the world and told her to move _right along_." He nodded emphatically. "_Right_ along. Didn…I…" He burped - loudly. He was going to wake up the boys, I just knew it. And_ then_ I would be pissed. "Didn I Thomas?"

Thomas nodded, his own grin threatening to split his face wide open. "You sure did,

buddy. You told her to move along." Thomas looked at me. "And he was pretty fucking loud when he said. I think people in the next county heard him."

I snorted and kind of wrapped my arms around Mac's waist. "He's gonna be hurting tomorrow," I observed.

Mac shook his head. "I'm not hurtin' sweetheart," he whispered, or at least he tried to. "I'm just…" He sort of rubbed his face against my neck. "I'm really fucking horny is what I am…"

Oh God help me. Thomas doubled over with laughter, actually slapping his leg.

"You gonna help me out with that Bells?" Mac asked, licking at my ear. "Cuz I would really appre…appreci…like that."

Then he sort of draped himself over me and I stumbled. I looked around his arm at Thomas and rolled my eyes at him. "A little help here?"

Thomas nodded, but had to stop laughing before he was actually any help. Thomas put his arm around Mac's waist and then put Mac's arm around his shoulders and tugged him upright and off of me. Mac blinked at Thomas. "I want Bells," he stated bluntly.

"Yeah, buddy," Thomas agreed with a grin. "I know you do. But I think you're gonna have trouble getting to your bed so I'm gonna help you."

Mac blinked again and then nodded. "Okay," he finally said. "But I still want my Bella….my angel." He looked at me, his head sort of lolling on his shoulders. "You're so pretty, angel. I knew you were an angel the first time I saw you and you told me to fuck my own hand."

Thomas' eyes grew wide and he looked at me. "Don't ask," I muttered. "Long story."

"One that I'm absolutely going to have hear sometime," Thomas said firmly. "I insist."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I grumbled. "Come on, let's get my boy in bed."

"We're gonna go to bed and _do it_," Mac announced proudly.

"Okay, tiger," I said.

"I'm gonna sing to Bells 'cuz women like that kind of shit," Mac said and before I could protest he was bellowing out the lyrics to one of his favorite songs. Well, sort of. He was getting the words a little mixed.

"If I leave here…someday…

Would you still bemember me…?"

He stopped singing abruptly and looked at me. "Would you bemember me baby?"

"I'll always 'bemember' you, baby," I promised. I met Thomas' eyes and we both snorted with laughter.

"I mussss be traveling on now…" Mac sang. I heard Emmett's door open and he stood there looking at us.

"Is Dad _drunk_?" Emmett asked in disbelief. It wasn't something that happened often, but when Mac let go, he really let go.

"Uh yeah, Thomas is helping me get him into bed." I really didn't want to explain any further.

"Classic," Emmett said with a grin.

"Go to bed, Em," I ordered. He listened. Thank God.

"Hey, Bells, if I had to travel on would you still bemember me?" Mac asked.

"You know I would," I said, trying to guide him toward our room.

"Thass good," Mac said. "But I'm not going nowhere 'cept to bed with my angel so we can _do it_," he hollered.

"Yeah, buddy, we got you the first time," Thomas interrupted. He looked at me. "I don't think our boy here's going to be capable of _doing it_ tonight, but more power to him for being clear on what he wants."

"Shut it, Thomas," I snapped. "Help me get this big slab of meat to bed."

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" Thomas huffed as Mac put his full weight on him.

Mac's eyes rolled around for a moment and then he grimaced. "Bells…angel…I don't feel so good."

"Oh fuck," Thomas muttered. "If he's gonna hurl, I want him in his own bathroom. I hate puke. I really do."

We hurried Mac along as best we could.

"We can still do it after I barf," he offered generously. "Itsssokay."

"Okay," I agreed. "But you need to get to the bathroom so you can throw up if you still want to do it." Anything to get him moving faster.

"Sure," he replied agreeably. "I'll brush my teeth too." Who said romance was dead?

We got him to the bathroom just in time for him to hunch over the toilet and let it rip. Thomas backed out of the bathroom like he'd been shot. He waited in the bedroom, because he knew I would need help getting Mac into bed.

After a few minutes of retching sounds, Mac said. "I'm done barfin'."

"Good to know, baby."

I handed him his toothbrush and he took a few halfhearted swipes after I had him rinse out his mouth. Then I had him swish mouthwash around in his mouth because I had to sleep next to him and he was a cuddler.

"Okay, baby," I said. "Let's get you to bed."

Then Thomas was there to help me get him to sit down on the bed. I leaned down to remove his shit kickers and then I went for the zipper of his jeans. He looked up at Thomas blearily. "You gotta go now Thomas…I don't want you to see my angel's goods."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "You got it from here, Bella?"

I nodded. "Thanks, tell Megan I owe her."

"Will do," he said and then he was gone.

I looked at Mac. "What am I going to do with you?"

He thought about that for a moment. "We could do it," he offered.

"Let's see about getting you out of those clothes." That only encouraged him but actually getting him stripped down to his boxers was enough of a chore to wear him out. He did serenade me though.

"Bye bye, baby, it's been a sweet love, yeah, yeah  
Though this feeling I can't change..."

Here he added a little impromptu guitar riff, wailing it out like he could actually carry a tune.

"Mac quiet down, you'll wake the boys," I said.

He responded by singing another verse.

"But please don't take it so bad…badly  
'Cause Lord howdy knows I'm to blame."

He was still screwing up the lyrics but he did look sort of cute. I kissed him as he flopped down on the pillow, still mumbling the words to "Freebird" under his breath. My Skynyrd fan…

I crawled into bed beside him, wrapping myself around his big warm body. "It's been sweet love…" he whispered and then a moment later he was snoring.

I shook my head and kissed his cheek. "Yeah, it's been sweet…"

I closed my eyes and went to sleep.

Bottom of Form


	20. Chapter 20: Just in Case, Mac's POV

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#20 Just in Case (Mac's POV)**

"Hey, Charlie?" I knew he would be expecting my call. He knew what was happening the day after tomorrow. It had become part of a sort of twisted tradition between the two of us. If I had been cursed with the man who had been responsible for my existence, I had been blessed with the father of the woman I loved. Charlie had been the father I wanted to be to my sons. He taught me how to be a father from Emmett's first kick inside of Bella's body to today as I was getting ready to leave them.

"Hiya, Mac," Charlie Swan replied. "I was wondering when I'd hear from you." His voice was calm and gentle, as it always was. Charlie firmly believed in the old adage, 'walk softly and carry a big stick'." I wouldn't want to cross him that was for sure.

"Yeah, well, been busy getting things taken care of," I answered. "You know how it is before a deployment."

"Yeah," Charlie said. "I know." He sighed. "How's Bells?"

"Pissed," I answered right away and then laughed. "But trying not to show it around the boys."

"That's my Bells," Charlie observed with a snort. "Giving you hell behind closed doors though, isn't she?"

I sighed. "Yeah, well I kind of deserve it, so I guess I can just suck it up and listen to what she's got to say." I laughed. "Though I've gotta tell you, Charlie, your daughter may be the most pig-headed creature to ever walk God's green earth.

"You aren't telling me anything I don't know son," Charlie assured me. "I raised her. I know about that stubborn streak. Used to drive me crazy digging in her heels and looking up at me with big brown eyes and saying, 'But Daddy…'" He grunted. "She'd listen to my advice as nice as you please and then go off and do whatever the hell she wanted."

I had to laugh. "Jake does the same thing," I said. "But he's pulling it on Bella, so I guess what goes around comes around."

Charlie laughed at that too. "I miss those boys," he said. "Maybe Renee and I will plan a little visit down to Texas in a few months. I need to see my grandsons." Charlie was an exceptional grandfather, and every one of the boys idolized him. They loved their grandmother, but they _adored_ their grandfather. Charlie was always up for entertaining the four of them, crawling around on the ground when they were little, teaching them how to fish, an appreciation for sports – Charlie did it all.

"That would be good," I said. "I have a feeling this deployment's gonna be a hard one." _Maybe because you didn't have to actually go, asshole_. Charlie knew the whole story and he sighed.

"You do what you've gotta do, Mac," he said in a heavy voice. "I can't exactly fault you for that. But I'm not going to say that I don't understand Bella's point of view on all of this either. I love you both. I hate to see you hurting, but that's just the way it is right now."

Charlie had always given me a fair shake. Even in the beginning when he had threatened my balls and my life (in that order) if I hurt Bella, he hadn't jumped to any conclusions. I was a guy from the wrong side of the tracks with nothing to offer his daughter but my heart and an Army paycheck. Neither of which amounted to a hell of a lot. Still, he had welcomed me with the understanding that if I caused his daughter pain I would regret it. A lot. I had kept my side of the bargain – until now, I guess. I had hurt Bella by volunteering, but I had promised Charlie and myself that I'd make it up to her when I got back. One more year and we'd be living the life we had imagined for ourselves.

One more year. I just had to hold onto that thought. One year of hell and then…perfection.

I paused. "Well you know what I've called to ask you, Charlie," I said at last.

Charlie sighed and I heard him clear his throat. "Yeah, I guess I do," he agreed. "Though I hate like hell to even think about that."

"I don't either," I said. "But I'd be stupid to think that there's no chance of it happening. I've been lucky twice; I'm hoping I'll be lucky a third time. But I don't want to count on it."

"I know, son, I know," Charlie said softly.

"I've sent you copies of all the insurance policies," I said. "Bella's got everything too, but if something happens…" I cleared my throat. "Well, I expect that she'd be upset and not thinking quite clearly for a while."

"I'll put them in a safe place," Charlie assured me. "I'll put them someplace where Renee won't find them." I laughed at that. If Bella got upset when I deployed then Renee was a basket case. She drove everyone crazy with worry. I knew that because Bella would tell me all about her mother's latest escapades in her letters. Renee would religiously watch the news and try and figure out if I was in a hot zone or not. Bella, on the other hand, tried _not_ to watch the news – she said it just made her worry more and there wasn't a damned thing she could accomplish by worrying. All in all, I liked Bella's approach better. I didn't envy Charlie living with Renee for the next year.

Well, actually I did. I'd be happy to live with Bella, insane or not. _Then why didn't you stay at home where you belong, James_?

"Listen, Charlie, if something happens-"

"Could we not talk about this any more?" Charlie interrupted.

"Now, that's why I called, Charlie, so just let me get this off my chest and I'll shut my yap. Okay?"

Charlie heaved a sigh of resignation. "All right."

"Okay then, the insurance policies are all together," I said. "I've even written down what I want for my funeral, you know, just in case."

"Damn boy, isn't that going a bit far?" Charlie spit out.

"Not if I don't want Bella to have to bother with all that shit if the worst happens," I pointed out. "She'll have enough on her plate with the boys." _My boys… God please, let me come home and be their Daddy. Don't take me away from them. That's all I ask. I know I did something stupid, but I love Bella and I love our boys. I want to be there for them. Just give me that chance and I swear I'll never do something so stupid again_.

I wasn't sure God heard me; He'd never heard my mama when she prayed for my Dad to quit drinking. But I had to give it a shot.

"I think that's about it," I said. "It's all straight forward. There's the Army policy that'll go straight to Bella and a smaller one to help her get through short term stuff. I've paid most of the bills up ahead. Bella usually does all of that and she didn't want to talk about why I was doing it for her, but she knows." Having the bills paid ahead would give Bella a little bit of breathing room to deal with things if I died. She'd keep everything paid up ahead while I was deployed. We'd done that the two previous deployments, though we'd never actually sat down and talked about _why_ we did it. Some things just weren't too comfortable to talk about.

"You're a good man, Mac James," Charlie said after a minute. "And I want you to know that you've taken real good care of my Bella. Real good." He cleared his throat. Charlie didn't like talking about feelings or shit like that. "So you take good care of _yourself_ over there so I don't have to mess with any of this crap, you hear me?"

"I hear you, Charlie." I was feeling better now than I had in weeks. Bella wouldn't be on her own if something happened. She had her parents and her brother and Josh. Together, they'd watch over her and our boys. "One more thing, Charlie."

"Oh hell," he muttered.

I laughed. "No, nothing too serious," I said. "Just…if something-"

"Mac, enough of that shit," Charlie hissed.

"Hear me out, old man."

"I'll show you old when you get back," Charlie promised. "I can still beat your overgrown ass and you know it."

"I have no doubt, old man," I teased. "But listen, if…well, if it happens and I don't come back, promise me you won't let Bella grieve too long. I couldn't stand the thought of her being alone forever."

"Now what the hell kind of talk is that?" Charlie demanded.

"That's reality talk," I answered. "Just…just in case, you know…if the day ever comes, be there for her. Let her know that it really is okay to move on. Not right away, or she'd be the one beating your ass, but you know…at the right time…if…well, you'll know what to say to her when the time comes."

"Ah hell, Mac, I hate even agreeing to that shit," Charlie said.

"I know you do, but you'll do it because you know it's the right thing to do," I said.

There was a long pause on the other end and then finally Charlie sighed long and loud. "All right, Mac. All right, but please…don't make it necessary."

"Okay, Charlie. I'll do my best."

"All right then," Charlie said. "You give Bella and the boys our love. I'll call her when you leave."

"Thanks, Charlie," I murmured. "For everything."

"Be careful, Mac."

"I always am," I answered with a grin.

"I'll take care of our girl, Mac."

"You always do, Charlie."


	21. Chapter 21: The Art of Losing

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#21 The Art of Losing**

**Emmett's POV**

I was waiting for Rosie to call me. I was the only one allowed to call her Rosie and when she did I planned to take the phone into my room and lock the door. All I needed was a nosy brother (or two) trying to listen in on our conversation. I had tried to call Rose earlier in the day, but there hadn't been an answer at her house. I didn't know why, but that had bothered me. It wasn't like we had made plans to talk or anything. I just worried about her. I left a message for her. I might have left two.

Rose had told me at Jake's party that she was even more worried about her Mom. She said she thought her mom had called and talked to her Uncle Jasper for a while. "And that can't mean good news," Rose said. "Especially if they didn't call me to talk to her."

I had to agree. That didn't sound good. Adults always thought they were being so slick, sneaking around and not talking about stuff in front of kids. But honestly, didn't they think we knew shit was up when they stopped talking the minute we walked into a room and they got that sick, guilty look on their faces?

My mom had tried to do that a few times right after my dad died. I'd walk in on her and Uncle Will. I knew she thought was protecting me or something, but the thing was that I wanted to know. I _needed_ to know because my brain was coming up with shit that probably a lot worse than what had actually happened. I finally just told her that I wanted to hear about it too. I wanted to know exactly how my dad died. I wanted to know about his funeral. She had hesitated for a minute and then nodded. Then she had laid it all out for me, plain and simple, not dressing it up or downplaying it.

She told me about the IED, the shrapnel, my dad bleeding out, the men who died with him. She had even told me that my dad would probably look like himself in the casket. The day before we buried him, there had been a viewing. But before they let everyone else in, Mom had taken us all in. She said if we didn't want to see Dad up close then we could stay in back. We didn't have to look. I wanted to look. In the end, we all did. We stood right by him and held hands and we looked.

She had seen him earlier in the day, alone. Uncle Will had told us where she was going. He had seen that we didn't want stuff hidden from us. Uncle Will was cool like that. He didn't treat us like we were idiots. Uncle Josh had kept Jake occupied, but I had just sort of sat with Uncle Will. Every now and then the doorbell would ring and it would be someone bringing another casserole or some shit like that. We had all this food in the house and not one of us was hungry.

When Mom got home from the funeral home, she had been pale and shaky. Uncle Josh told her to go lay down and she did. What I remember most was how quiet the house was the first week after we found out about Dad. You could hear the old clock ticking on the mantle. By the second day, I hated that sound. I think Uncle Will did too because he turned it off eventually. Then it was completely silent.

It was weird.

The day Uncle Will turned off the clock, Mom had taken us to see Dad. He had offered to go with her when she went. She told him she needed to be alone with Dad. Then he offered again when she took us. She told him that we needed time alone with our father. Grandpa and Grandma had been told the same thing and when Grandma started to argue, Grandpa had given her a look and she had shut up.

I remembered all of it.

The phone rang and I snatched it up before one of my brothers could. "Hello?"

"Em?" It was Rosie. She sounded upset.

"What's the matter, Rose?"

"Uncle Jasper and Aunt Alice called me down to talk to me," she said softly. Well that was never good. Even kids knew "we've got to talk" never started off any good conversation. Usually it meant you were in trouble or something, but in Rose's case it meant something much more serious.

"And?"

She took in a shaky breath. "It's what I thought," she said. "My mom…she's dying, Em."

"Oh, Rose, that sucks." Words. They meant nothing. It seemed like hundreds of people had thrown words at us after Dad died. I knew how useless they were. Blah, blah, blah. They didn't make anything feel better, but they were all I could give her. It sucked. Big time. Still just words.

"The doctors have given her a few weeks, that's all."

We were both silent for a moment. I wanted to ask what would happen after, but I couldn't. Then Rose came to my rescue. "Uncle Jasper said he wants me to live with them," she said quietly.

"That's great, Rose."

"Yeah," she said with relief. "I was surprised, but they seem to really mean it."

"Who wouldn't want you around, Rose?"

She laughed and she sounded more like the Rose I knew so well. "Anyway, my mom agreed to sign papers making Uncle Jasper my guardian so no one can try and put me in a foster home or anything."

"I'm glad," I said.

Another silence. "I'm going to fly home to see her…one more time."

"You aren't going alone are you?"

"No," she answered. "They're all going with me," Rose added. "They want to make sure I'm not alone." I heard the surprise in her voice, surprise that someone cared about her enough to make sure she wasn't alone. "We're all flying out the day after tomorrow."

"They love you, Rose," I told her. "They're your family. That's what families do."

"Yeah, I guess." I could hear the doubt in her voice. She wasn't getting it.

"When my dad died, my uncles flew out that day to be with us, to help my mom out." Funny how I'd just been thinking about that. "They handled the nosy neighbors and looked out for us while Mom took care of the funeral stuff."

"You're lucky," Rose said. "You have _two _uncles."

"You only need one if he's a good one," I teased. "And I think your uncle is doing a pretty good job of watching out for you."

"Yeah," she agreed. "And they want to keep me."

"Yeah, they do."

I could tell she wanted to ask me something so I waited. "Uh…Emmett?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you remember…about your dad's funeral?" She sighed. "I've never been to one and I know that soon…." Rosalie took a deep breath. "It's gonna happen soon and I'm kinda nervous because I've never been to a funeral and I don't want to be surprised. What if I freak out? Or get grossed out and barf?"

"Uh, well…no, it's not like that." I thought about it. "Well, my dad's funeral was probably different because he was buried with military honors and stuff. That meant there was a twenty-one gun salute, a flag over his coffin…stuff like that." I paused. "The guns scared Jake and Sam and they started crying." I remembered that too.

"Did you…_see_ him?"

"Yeah."

"What was it like?"

"Well…I saw him at the funeral home on the day of the viewing," I told her.

"Viewing?"

"That's where everyone comes by to gawk at the dead body," I said. I remembered the crowds of people, most of whom hadn't even known us. But Mom said that lots of people wanted to pay their respects to a soldier who had died for his country. I still wasn't sure how I felt about that. Sometimes I got mad, and sometimes I was proud of what my dad had done. I wasn't sure I'd ever make sense of it though.

"Gross," Rose muttered.

"Yeah, it can be," I said.

"So…what did he look like?" Then she paused. "You don't have to answer that. It was rude of me to ask."

"No, no, it's not a problem," I assured her. "Uh…well…he looked kinda…waxy, I guess."

"Waxy?"

"Almost like he wasn't real, like one of those figures in a wax museum or something." I remembered that I had had the weirdest urge to touch his cheek and see what it felt like. I hadn't, but the urge had been there. I was pretty sure Seth had had the same thought, but we'd never talked about it. Too weird.

"Huh."

"He looked like himself, but not really," I continued. "I don't really know how else to explain it."

"Was he all messed up?"

"No, he looked okay," I said. "He actually died from blood loss, so there weren't any marks on him that we could see." I sighed. "I guess his uniform covered up his injuries."

Rosalie was quiet again and I wished I knew what she was thinking.

"They buried him in his uniform?" she finally asked.

"Yeah, that's what they do for all of them," I said.

"So did your mom have to bring a uniform or something?"

"No, they process the bodies at Dover, that's a military base, and get 'em all cleaned up and put brand new uniforms on them and stuff." My mom had explained all of that to me when I asked why it was taking so long for them to bring Dad home. "Then they put the casket on a plane and send them home. A military escort flies with each body, making sure no one messes with it. Mom said they make sure that every soldier gets the respect he or she deserves." Mom had sounded a little angry when she told me that, but mostly sad. "Then they drive them from the airport to whatever funeral home they're going to. Some of them end up getting some kind of motorcade escort thing – people just end up lining the streets. Depends on how many people find out there's a body coming home."

"Where's your dad buried?" Rose asked.

"He had told Mom that he didn't want her dragging us all over the country if…if something happened. So he's in the Ft. Sam Houston National Cemetery in San Antonio. We were in Texas when it happened, so…"

"Ft. Hood, right?"

"Yeah, Mom said there were a lot of brave soldiers buried there, guys who won special medals and stuff. She said it was a good place for Dad." Then she had started crying and run to her room. Uncle Will had tried to distract us. It hadn't worked. Jake had gotten all worked up and started crying so hard that he got sick. Uncle Josh had cleaned it up and wrapped Jake in a blanket and rocked him like a baby until he fell asleep.

"I don't know where my mom will be buried," Rosalie said softly.

"Ask your uncle," I told her. "He needs to know you have questions." Losing my father had taught me that. Adults won't tell you stuff unless you ask and don't give them a chance to distract you.

"Yeah," Rose said. "I will."

"You gonna be okay, Rose?"

"Not yet, but I will be…one day I guess," she said. A long pause. "Are you okay?"

"Better," I said. "Some days are bad, but it's getting easier." I laughed. "Not easy, just easier. It's weird sometimes. Get ready, people give you weird looks when you tell them your mom or dad is dead."

"I guess it is weird. It's unusual anyway."

"Yeah, unusual," I said. "Weird."

"Thanks, Emmett," Rosalie murmured. "I feel better."

"Go take a nap or something," I told her. "You sound tired."

She yawned and then laughed. "Okay, I will."

"Thanks again."

"Anytime, now go…get some sleep."

"Bossy," she grumbled.

"Call me when you wake up."

"Maybe," she teased and hung up.

**Author's Note: If you want to see a movie that really explores the issue of honoring military dead, please see **_**Taking Chance **_**with Kevin Bacon. But I'm warning you, have a few boxes of tissues handy.**


	22. Chapter 22: Follow Your Heart, Bella POV

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#22 Follow Your Heart**

I heard the boys scramble to get the phone. Jake won the race, though he wouldn't have if Emmett hadn't been in the shower. I could hear his triumphant howl as he told his brothers to suck it. I sighed. That seemed to be Jake's favorite new phrase and I wasn't particularly fond of it. But every time he said it, I gave him a stern look and he'd blink up at me with big, brown eyes and solemnly promise never to say it again.

Until the next time.

Then when I would remind him of his promise, he'd look pitiful and apologetic and tell me he forgot. That kid twisted me up in knots and he knew it. I felt a moment of pity for the woman he'd finally fall in love with. I could only hope she'd be made of sterner stuff than I was or he'd walk all over her.

Jake chattered away for a few minutes. I knew I'd get the phone when he had had his say. It was either my brother or one of my parents. No one else called that Jake would talk to for that long. Though he'd started conversing longer with Rosalie, even if it was, as I suspected, more to annoy Emmett than anything else. Still, Rosalie seemed content to talk with Jake.

Finally, Jake's head popped around the corner, the phone in his hand. "Here, it's Grandpa."

"Thanks, sweetie," I said, lifting the phone to my ear. "Hello, Dad." I had to smile because my dad always asked the same questions and I knew what he was going to say before he said it.

"How are all the boys?" Question #1.

"They're fine, Dad," I assured him. "Jake's filled you in, I'm sure."

Dad grunted, which was the response I expected.

"How are you, baby girl?" No matter how old I got, I suspected that my father would call me baby girl. Question #2.

"I'm good, Dad," I said with more honesty than would have been true in the past two years. "Really good actually."

Another grunt. I guess caveman runs with the Y chromosome. Goodness knows it did with the boys. Grunts, snorts, and rolling of eyes were the most common form of communication among them. And yet, they always seemed to know what each other was saying. Males were weird.

"So…" Uh oh, I could feel Dad working up to the brand new Question #3, which had reared its ugly head back in late June.

I laughed. "Dad, just go ahead and ask the third question."

"What third question?" He honestly sounded puzzled.

"You have a routine, Dad. It used to be only two questions, but now there's a third one." I remembered with less sadness than I would have thought possible how he used to have a slightly different third question. When Mac died, that question wasn't asked anymore.

Dad sighed and I could practically see him tugging at that moustache he had decided to grow after he retired from the Army. "How's that young man in your life?"

I had to laugh again. "That young man is almost forty years old, Dad."

"He's still a boy to me," Dad retorted.

"He's fine Dad," I assured him. "His brother and his family are here visiting so I got to meet all of them."

Dad grunted, though he didn't sound displeased.

"Were they nice to you?" he finally asked.

"Why yes, Daddy, they let me borrow their crayons and even gave me the pudding cup from their lunches," I teased.

"You've got a smart mouth on you," Dad muttered.

"You should know, I got it from you," I shot back.

Dad laughed and I could see him nodding. Then he'd give another tug on that moustache. It was still weird to see it on his face, having grown up with him clean shaven my whole life. Still, my mom liked it and I guessed that was good enough for him.

"Your brother never sasses me like that," Dad reminded me.

"That's because Will's nicer than I am," I said. "I thought we had established that."

"Well I'm not going to argue the point with you, that's for sure," Dad muttered. "Why can't you be sweet to me? I'm an old man, remember?" His tone was teasing.

"Dad, for an old man you sure do get around a lot," I reminded him. "Mom told me how you went fishing and didn't come home until ten o'clock at night, soaking wet and miserable with the cold." I sighed. "You're going to get pneumonia and be in the hospital and I happen to know you're the world's worst patient, so do the medical staff a favor and stay healthy, will you?"

"What? You think a little rain is gonna knock me on my ass, little girl?" He sounded offended, and he'd just finished calling himself an old man. Old man my ass.

"I think you should take care of yourself," I amended. "That's all. I worry about you."

"I'm the one who's supposed to be doing the worrying around here," Dad scolded. "You've got your hands full enough as it is."

"The boys are fine," I said. "You know I'd go crazy if I didn't have them around and underfoot."

"And how is it having that Cullen boy around and underfoot?" Dad slipped the question in lightning fast. Damn it. He was good at interrogation. He played both good cop _and_ bad cop.

I scowled at the phone. "It's nice, Dad. I like him." And suddenly I was sixteen years old again.

"I know you do, baby girl." Dad's voice was gentle, the tone of voice he'd used when I told him I was marrying Mac. The voice he'd used when he held me the day they had flown to Texas when Mac died and he just sort of picked me up like I was a little girl again and held me so tightly that I almost felt safe again.

I began twisting a strand of hair around my finger. "I like him a lot, Dad."

"I think he likes you a lot too, sweetheart."

I was silent for a moment. "I never thought I'd have these kinds of feelings again. I…I didn't expect it…I didn't expect _him_."

"You didn't expect Mac either, but that worked out pretty well, didn't it?"

I sighed. "Yes, yes it did." And it had. Mac and I had had a very good marriage, not perfect because real marriages never are – but it was real and the emotions that ran between us had been deep and lasting. I would always love Mac. But that didn't change my growing feelings for Edward either.

"Then I think you should trust your judgment, little girl," Dad said softly. "You've got a good head on your shoulders. You always did. Even when you were little you knew what you wanted and you went after it. You've never let anyone stand in your way and I don't expect that you'll start now."

"There's no one standing in my way, Dad," I reminded him.

"Just yourself," Dad answered. "But if you want this…if you want him, then you're going to have to embrace it." It was so rare to hear my father talk like that that I almost didn't respond.

"I guess…I guess I _feel_ like I should feel guilty," I whispered. "But I don't feel guilty, Dad. And that makes me feel guilty sometimes." I sighed. "That doesn't make sense."

"It does," Dad assured me. "But let me just make a few observations here." Uh oh. Charlie Swan's catch phrase. "First, you loved Mac and you were a good wife to him, just like he was a good husband to you. You followed him around the country without complaint, you gave him a helluva family, and you loved him with everything you had inside of you."

"He did the same for me too, Dad."

"I know he did, and that's the point, little girl."

"You're confusing me, Dad."

"Do you think that Mac would want you to be miserable and alone for the rest of your life? Don't you think he loved you more than that?"

I swallowed hard.

"He loved me, Daddy." I wiped at the tear that had escaped my control. "I know he did. He'd want me happy. I know that too. And I want to be happy again. I want it more than I've wanted anything in a long time. But I don't want to forget him, Daddy. I don't want the boys to forget him."

"Does this young man say or do anything to make you think he's uncomfortable with Mac's memory?" Dad asked. I had to giggle at his persistence in calling Edward a young man. Next thing I knew he'd be calling him boy. Yeah, he probably would – and in front of Edward too.

"No, Daddy, if anything he's more understanding about Mac than I have any right to expect." And that was true – unbelievably, undeniably true.

"Well, baby girl, it seems to me you've got a man on your hands who wants to be a part of your life, and those boys' lives, and that he loves you enough to accept all of you – including Mac."

"Yes, Dad, he does."

Dad sighed. "Your mom and I will be there before too long, and I want to sit down and talk with you baby girl. I want to talk to you about a conversation Mac and I had…before he deployed."

"Dad?"

"I just want to sit down and talk to you face-to-face, baby girl. Just give me that. I'm your father and I'm claiming my rights as your father to delay this conversation for in person. Okay?"

I sighed. I got my stubbornness from my father so I knew I wouldn't budge him on this one. "Okay, Dad."

"But I love you, Bells. And I trust you. You've never let me down. Not once. You're stronger and smarter than we had any right to expect. So just follow your heart on this, baby girl."

"I love you, Daddy."

"And I love you." He paused. "I love you a lot."

"I'll see you and mom soon, okay?"

"You tell those boys we love them." A long pause. "And tell that young man we enjoyed speaking with him."

I laughed. "Okay, I'll tell that _young man_ that you enjoyed scaring the shit out of him."

"I scared him, huh?" Dad sounded way too pleased with himself.

"I'm hanging up now, Dad."

"All right," Dad said with a laugh. "But it's_ really_ good to know I haven't lost my touch."


	23. Chapter 23: Button Pusher

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#23 Button Pusher**

_**Charlie's POV**_

Renee came into the kitchen where I was drinking my coffee. I had made it myself because Renee still couldn't master coffee the way I liked it. I think she did it on purpose. _My_ coffee was one step away from being tar – just the way I liked it. If it didn't burn away a layer of your throat, then it wasn't good coffee. I looked up and shook my head. Uh oh. She had that look on her face. "What did you do?" I asked her.

She just smiled at me and shrugged, then sort of danced around the kitchen from counter to counter, putting things away. I grunted and took another sip of my sludge. She wouldn't tell me until she was damned good and ready. Almost forty-one years of marriage had taught me that well enough.

I picked up the paper and snapped it open, though I wasn't sure why I bothered. Nothing in it but bad news anyway. Killings, robberies, hate crimes… People never really changed. I grunted again just because I knew it annoyed Renee. I glanced at her quickly, hoping to see her frowning at me. But no, nothing but that smile on her face.

Oh she was up to something all right.

I snapped the paper again and she laughed. Damn it. I was pulling out all my best tricks and she wasn't biting. "Idiots," I muttered as I pretended to read. "Nothing but fucking idiots in the world today," I added for good measure.

"Yes, darling, I know," she commiserated but she kept right on smiling. What was a man supposed to say to that? When a woman agreed with a man so easily, it put him off balance. Things weren't right in the world. They did it on purpose. They liked to see us squirm and wiggle.

I frowned as I let my eyes roam over the paper. She had something on her mind. I could read it in her face, her motions, and her little sighs. I had heard her on the phone. Will or Bella? I chewed on my moustache while I considered that. The hair on my upper lip was taking some getting used to, but I'll be damned if I was going to shave it. Renee said it made me look distinguished, which I was pretty sure was both bullshit and a way to say I was okay looking for an old geezer. But the moustache stayed.

Will or Bella? My mind kept going back to that. If I was a betting man, and I wasn't because I was too damned cheap to throw money away, I would have put my money on it being about Bella.

Will and Josh seemed settled into their lives and as far as I knew, they didn't have any big changes coming up for them. Josh had just gotten back from a trip overseas a few months ago, so he wouldn't be leaving again for a while. And Will would be gearing up for the school year, just like Bella. That boy knew numbers, though God knows where he got _that _from. I hated balancing the check book and Renee thought as long as she had checks, there was still money in the account.

I gave another grunt and peeked over at Renee to see if she was going to say anything about it. Nope, she continued to ignore me as she made a cup of tea. Tea. Who drank that shit anyway?

I chewed on the facial hair a bit more, deciding it was in need of a trim. I was off today but sort of at loose ends. There would be no fishing today. Renee had had a cow when I'd come home from my last fishing trip coughing and hacking and dripping snot down my face. She had hustled me into bed like a five year old and practically poured some sort of damned tea down my throat. I had half expected her to hold my nose and rub my throat to make it go down. The honey and whiskey in it hadn't been enough to make up for it being tea, but I'd swallowed it down because the argument wasn't worth it at that point. I was feeling too poorly to make up with her. The fact that the stupid tea had made me feel better wasn't relevant. At all.

"How's Bella?" I asked out of the blue. That was the only way to do it sometimes with Renee. Shock and awe. Distract and divert. The element of surprise was necessary. Sometimes it seemed like the damned woman could read minds.

"I guess she's fine," Renee said as she sat down at the kitchen table. Her eyes went to my moustache. "You need a trim," she observed.

"You think so? I think it's fine." I wasn't sure why I was prepared to argue the point with her when I'd just had that thought myself. Sometimes I just liked to see the fire in her eyes though. A little disagreement here and there often led to much more satisfactory interactions later on. We were long married, we weren't long _dead_, as I liked to say.

Renee rolled her eyes at me. "You know you do. I don't know why you like to argue sometimes."

_Because I like making up with you_, I thought, hiding my smile.

I shrugged, which I knew irritated her. One of the best and worst things about knowing someone so well is that you knew what buttons to push and when. Of course, she knew the same thing about me so there was every chance that she was the one doing the button-pushing now and not me. I could live with that.

"I thought you talked to her," I said, pretending to read the paper. Nothing but idiots in it anyway; it wasn't like I was missing much.

"No," Renee said, giving me a sly smile. She tilted her head and studied me. "I was talking to Edward."

That _was_ a surprise. "Oh really? That boy she's been seeing?" 

Renee shook her head. "Boy? Hardly, Charlie." She smiled again and the warning bells went off in my mind. "He's almost forty, you know."

I grunted because I could and it annoyed her. But her eyes didn't even flicker. "He's been alive fewer years than we've been married." I gave a snort for emphasis, just to make my thoughts on the matter clear. "That makes him a boy."

Renee reached out and patted my hand like she could read all the worries in my mind. Hell, she probably could. We'd shared a lot of years together.

"He loves her, Charlie," Renee said softly. Another surprise. I wasn't fond of surprises.

"What makes you say that?" I asked skeptically.

She leaned over and kissed me for no good reason, or reasons only she knew at that point. There was no telling with Renee. I was okay with that.

"He's going to transfer all her home movies to DVD," Renee said. "Even the ones with Mac," she added, as if surprised.

I wasn't surprised. I hated surprises.

I grunted. She rolled her eyes and I had to hide my smile. All was right with my world. "He'd be stupid to try and push Mac out of the way," I observed. "He didn't strike me as stupid." That's as much as I was willing to give the man until I had sized him up in person.

Renee sighed.

"There's something else," she said.

I looked up from the paper. "And what is that?"

"He said Sam gave him the idea to add photos to a DVD," Renee said. I had to grin. Damn that boy was smart. Common sense along with book smarts, too. Common sense would get him farther in my opinion. It was a damned good thing the kid had both. Book smarts didn't you do you a damn bit of good if you couldn't remember to zip your fly in the morning. You still walked around with your Johnson hanging out.

"Good idea," I agreed. "Leave it to Sam." We smiled at each other, our pride in our grandsons a shared thing.

"Yes, well, he wants to add baby pictures and stuff too," Renee went on. "And since you scanned some of them in the spring, I told him that you'd email him what you have."

Well now, another surprise. But I might even like this one. I grunted. "Okay," I said. "Give me the boy's email address and I'll get right on that." I smiled at her and I must have looked like I was going to have too much fun. And I got to call him boy again.

Renee frowned at me and then poked me in the chest. "Be nice, Charles Swan."

I rubbed at my chest and gave her my best look of offended dignity. "I'm always nice," I protested.

She just looked at me.

"Okay, I'm nice m**ost** of the time," I amended.

Just the look.

"All right, I'm nice when people aren't idiots. Is it my fault that people are idiots _most_ of the time?"

She looked at me and then heaved a sigh. "Just be nice, Charlie. This man…he's important to Bella." Like I didn't know that. Hadn't I talked to my baby girl? Did she think I couldn't hear what was in her voice? Bella and I understood each other; we always had.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," I muttered, looking back at the paper.

"I mean it, Charlie," Renee said.

"I heard you, geez. I heard you." I was grumbling at that point.

She sighed and patted my arm. "The boys like him too," she added quietly. I ignored her and pretended to read the paper. Finally, she sighed again and stood up, placing a kiss on my forehead. I pretended like I didn't care.

Then she leaned in close and pressed her face to mine. "The next time you pretend to read the paper, make sure it's not the entertainment section." She kissed my temple. "In forty years, you've never read that section. I don't expect that you'll start now.

I snorted again and tried to act like it wasn't laughter. She walked away, humming under her breath, obviously very pleased with herself.

I grinned, safely out of her sight. 

You had to love a woman who knew just how to push your buttons. I whistled under my breath and found the sports section.


	24. Chapter 24: Keeping Mr Edward

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**Author's Note: This is short, and a scene from Bigger from another perspective. I don't usually do that, but a reader suggested getting Jake's thoughts on meeting Lilith. I went a little bit different direction with it, but I thought it was such a good idea that I came up with this. It actually tied in nicely to a scene coming up in Bigger, so…**

**#24 Keeping Mr. Edward**

Jake liked riding in the car with Edward. He liked being alone with him, and not having to compete with his brothers for attention. He liked not sharing Edward, even if it was just for a little while. As one of four boys, he had shared almost everything for most of his life. He had had fun this morning and they hadn't even gotten to the toy store. He was pretty sure Mr. Edward was going to buy him something.

Then as he began to think about everything that had happened that morning, he started to get upset.

More than upset, Jake started to get worried. Not too much worried Jake. He liked being happy. But this morning, when that woman had walked up to Edward, Jake had had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't as bad as it has been when he walked down the stairs to see his mother crying when they found out Dad had died. But it was there and Jake didn't like it.

He was the youngest, so he was smaller. And sometimes he got overlooked. When he stood up and held Edward's hand, he was just reminding everyone that he was there. No one was going to overlook him. What if Mr. Edward liked her? A lot? Jake didn't trust her. Then the woman's husband had walked up and Jake had felt better, but the aching place inside his stomach remained.

That woman had left, and Jake felt better. But then he realized that Edward could leave too. Nothing held him to the James' family. He wasn't even a stepfather. Jake knew what a stepfather was. Lots of kids had them. Jake wasn't the only kid in his class who didn't have a father around. Jenny's father lived in Alaska and she only saw him during the summer. Colton's dad was deployed but he was supposed to come home by Colton's birthday. One kid had two moms, so Jake guessed that counted as a mom and a dad. But Jake was the only one whose father was dead. He didn't have a stepfather, a mom's boyfriend, or a dad who lived far away. What Jake had was Mr. Edward.

Edward was dating Jake's mom (Jake had figured that out before his mom said anything) but boyfriends didn't always stick around. His friend Tommy at school had liked _his_ mom's last boyfriend, but he left one day. Packed his stuff and moved out. Tommy never saw him again. He didn't even get to say good-bye.

Edward didn't even live with them. He wouldn't have any stuff to pack. All he'd have to do is not come over again. And then what would Jake do? He couldn't even find his way to Edward's house by himself. Edward lived too far away to walk to his house even if he _could_ find it.

What if Edward decided he didn't want them? Emmett was always making trouble. First the broken windshield. Of course, that had been a good thing since it brought Mr. Edward to their house. Even if it had made Mom mad at first, later she had started to look happy. She was always happy when Mr. Edward was around.

And Jake liked seeing his Mom happy. He stared out the window as Edward drove them. He talked a little bit. He told Mr. Edward about his Dad. He told him some of his favorite things he had done with his Dad. Maybe Edward would like those things too. Jake was trying to show him how much fun it could be to be a dad.

_Jake's_ dad.

Jake wasn't stupid. He knew he had a father. And he loved his father – a lot. But his father wasn't ever going to come home and sometimes…. Well, sometimes Jake just wanted a man to pick him up and whirl him around and then tickle him until he threatened to pee, to sit down and read to him or watch Star Wars with him, or watch his mother make dinner with him. He remembered doing all of those things with his father and he missed them.

Emmett remembered a lot more about Dad than Jake did, but even Emmett had to see that having Edward around was a good thing – for all of them. He was funny and nice and he made Mom happy. Even when Jake tried to talk him into getting another dog, Edward had been nice about saying no. Jake wondered if maybe, just maybe, he could keep Edward.

Mr. Jasper was keeping Rosalie. Rosalie was keeping Mr. Jasper and Miss Alice. So it wasn't like you _couldn't_ keep people. Jake knew that Rose lived with them, and they were keeping her. Maybe…?

"Emmett told me that Mr. Jasper and Miss Alice are keeping Rosalie. Is that true?"

"Well, yeah, I guess it is." Excellent. So it was true.

Jake considered that for a moment. "Em says her mom is gonna die."

Mr. Edward looked at Jake and the boy waited. "Yeah, her mom is really sick. The doctors say they can't make her better." Jake already knew that but he was glad Mr. Edward wasn't trying to lie to him. He hated it when adults did that, especially when he already knew better.

Jake turned toward the window and thought about things. "So she'll live with Mr. Jasper now?"

"Yes." Even better.

"So they're just keeping her, just like that?" Was it really possible to keep someone? To belong to them and they belonged to you?

"Yeah." Mr. Edward smiled. "They love her and want to make her a part of their family. Rose needs a family and they want to be that family, so everybody's happy."

Well if they could keep Rosalie, then what was wrong with him keeping Mr. Edward? Jake didn't have a father – and Mr. Edward didn't have a kid. He seemed to like kids. He'd probably like having a kid around. "So you can just keep people when you want them to be a part of your family?"

"Well, if they want to be a part of your family, I guess you can. That's what happens when people adopt kids. The kids need a family and the family needs a kid."

Exactly. Jake needed a father and Mr. Edward needed a kid. What could be better?

"So everybody wins," Mr. Edward said. Jake thought so too.

"Does it have to be kids?" Jake had to be sure.

"Uh…I don't guess so."

Jake frowned down at his hands, biting at his lip. It seemed like the right time to ask. They were alone together and who knew when that would happen again? "So…" He sighed and hunched his shoulders up. "Can I keep _you_?"

His heart sank when Mr. Edward sort of sat there for a minute, his mouth hanging open. He had that weird look adults get when a kid asks a question they don't want to answer.

"Uh…well, to be honest, Jake, that's kind of up to your mom and me. That's sort of a grown up decision."

"I'm not saying _Mom_ has to keep you." Jake knew that sometimes adults couldn't get along, even though they were always telling kids to play nice. He didn't get it. But he wasn't asking for his mother to keep Edward. Just him. "I just want to keep you. You don't have a family and I don't have a dad. So everybody wins." Mr. Edward just wasn't getting it. Or maybe… maybe he just didn't want a kid. Maybe he didn't want_ Jake_.

"Uh… Well, Jake, how about we think about this for a while and then make a decision."

"That's what grown ups always say when the answer is no." "_Think about it"_ meant no. Mom had to "think about" getting a dog for years and they hadn't gotten one until they found Emily on the street. She had to "think about" Emmett getting a cell phone. And did Emmett have a cell phone? No. Mom and Dad had once said they'd "think about" giving him a baby sister. Did Jake have a baby sister? No. So Mr. Edward must not want a kid.

"No, buddy, I promise you, I'm not saying no." Sure. Right. Like Jake believed that. "I'm just saying let's think about this. Who knows? Once you get to know me you might not want to keep me. Ever think about that?"

"I don't think that will happen." Jake knew Edward. He liked him. In fact, he maybe, kinda sorta loved him.

"Well, you never know."

"I know," Jake assured him.

"You're a pretty great kid, you know?"

He grinned and shrugged. "Yeah. I know." Then Jake's smile faded when Mr. Edward turned his eyes back on the road. If he was such a great kid then why didn't Mr. Edward want to keep him?

They got home and Jake forgot about keeping anyone for a little while. Then he went up to his room and put away his new action figures. He liked seeing them up there, all lined up. But then he looked at the ones he had gotten for his birthday from Edward, Jake began to worry.

What if Mr. Edward wasn't there on his _next_ birthday?

Dad had been there for his fifth birthday. Jake remembered. They had had chocolate, chocolate cake and they had watched all of the original Star Wars movies. In a row. But the next birthday, Dad hadn't been there. Dad had been dead. He was gone _forever_.

So what if next birthday, Edward wasn't there? Not because he was dead but because he didn't _want_ to be there? What if Edward decided that four boys were just too much? And that Emmett was too grumpy? And that Jake asked for too much candy?

This was all Emmett's fault. If Emmett had been nicer to Edward from the start, Edward would want to keep him. If Emmett hadn't tried to get rid of Mr. Edward by being mean, then Jake would be able to keep Edward.

Jake stomped out of his room and went to Emmett's room and pounded on his door. "What?" Emmett snapped when he opened the door.

Emmett was just a little surprised when Jake hauled back and kicked him in the shin. Hard. Twice. Jake glared up at his brother, his thin arms crossed over his chest. "If he doesn't let me keep him, it's all your fault!" Jake declared.

Then Jake ran to his room and stared at his Star Wars figures.

And worried.


	25. Chapter 25: Small Hearts

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#25 Small Hearts**

I tried to hide my concern as I watched Jake eat his breakfast. A sad Jake was much like a sad puppy. They both tugged at your heart strings and you wanted to do nothing more than to make it all better – no matter what it took. Mountains would be climbed and oceans would be crossed if need be.

Jake had been worrying about something for a few days now. I knew the signs well enough. Jake wasn't much of a worrier, but when he did fret, he did the job right.

So now my youngest son was turning a problem over and over in his mind. He would examine it from various angles, trying always to put the best spin on things (the boy was a born optimist), but whatever was nagging at him had him confused and anxious.

I don't like to see my boys anxious.

Now I studied him, trying to come up with the best way to approach him and get him to open up. He was naturally gregarious and talkative. He liked people and he didn't mind sharing with them. But every now and then, when something struck especially close to his heart, he proved he was his mother's son and clammed up. I couldn't even really fault him for it, since he'd come by it honestly from both sides. Mac hadn't been exactly Mr. Let's Hug and Share Our Feelings either. We were both, by nature, somewhat reticent. Jake was an anomaly of sorts, being our little social butterfly.

"How's breakfast, Jake?" Start simple. Get him talking about simple stuff and then go in for the kill. Er, the talk.

"Good," he mumbled. He sounded like he was choking down scrambled eggs and toast when in reality he was munching on chocolate frosted Pop-Tarts. The kid should have been bouncing in his seat and in sugar heaven._ Should_ have been.

But he wasn't, not by a long shot. That was concerning.

"You feeling okay, buddy?" I asked, putting a hand on his forehead. Nope, he was perfectly normal in temperature. Not that I was surprised. A sick Jake was a whiny Jake, not this quiet little boy. A quiet Jake was either in trouble or fretting about something.

He wasn't in trouble.

"I'm okay," he said with a shrug.

"You sure?" I asked, lifting his little chin and looking into his eyes. Sometimes he really reminded me of Will, and this was one of those moments. He had that same look Will had gotten when someone had said something nasty to him and he didn't want to tell me. He knew I'd beat their ass. You don't mess with my baby brother. And you don't mess with my kids either.

Will didn't call me Mama Bear for nothing.

"Yeah," he said, his eyes sliding away from mine. Uh oh. My boy was definitely hiding something. And he knew his eyes gave too much away. Smart kid. "I'm okay."

I sat down beside him and picked up a piece of Pop-Tart and ate it. "Well, you don't seem all right to me," I told him.

A quick guilty glance from dark eyes and then he looked at his plate again. "I am." Another shrug.

"You know sometimes when you're worried about something it helps to talk to someone about it."

"I know," he said. "You've told us that." I had, more than once, especially in the first few months after Mac's death.

"It doesn't have to be something big to worry you," I pushed. "Sometimes the little things make you worry the most."

Another sidelong glance from Jake. "Uh…yeah. I know. I'm fine."

"Just saying," I threw in casually. Then I got up and went into the kitchen where I could still keep an eye on him at the breakfast bar.

I started trying to pinpoint when his anxiety had started. All I could come up with was the day he'd gone out with Edward. I knew that nothing had really happened, or Edward would have told me. Well, nothing had happened as far as _Edward_ knew. But maybe, for Jake, something _had _happened. That was the thing. An adult's perspective and a child's perspective could be worlds apart.

"So, how did your day with Edward go?" I asked.

The shoulders hunched forward. Not a good sign. If I had to, I'd ask Edward everything they talked about. But I wanted to try and get it out of Jake first. Talking to Edward might not help because Jake's view would naturally differ from Edward's view. What might have been something casual and simple to Edward might be big and important to Jake.

"Good," he muttered.

"Really?" I asked. "Even when you ran into Lilith?"

He shrugged. "She was okay. Her husband was nice." Okay, so Lilith wasn't the problem.

"Did you and Edward have a nice time talking? Did you like having him to yourself?"

Small shoulders moved beneath the tee-shirt. Not quite a shrug, not quite a hunch. My mom instincts told me that I had hit a nerve. I moved to sit beside him again and cradled his little face. I willed him to look at me and after a long pause he did. Tears welled up in his eyes. "Jakey…" I breathed. "What's wrong?"

He sniffed. "Promise you won't be mad?" The lower lip quivering was enough to make me want to sob.

"How could I be mad?" I made myself smile at him, reassuring him as best I could.

"Promise?"

"I promise. Jake, you know you can tell me anything."

He nodded. "I asked Edward if…" He took in a shaky breath. "I told him I wanted to keep him. You know, like Mr. Jasper is keeping Rosalie?" I nodded. "And I told him that I wanted to keep him too. I thought he'd like having a kid. And he told me I was a great kid, so I thought…" Shoulders hunched forward again.

"And he said no?" That didn't sound right. But I also knew that kids heard things differently than adults meant them. The fault wasn't always with the kids either.

"He said…" Jake wiped at his eyes. "He said he had to think about it." Jake's lips pressed together. "And whenever a grown up says that gotta think about it, they mean no. They just don't want to say it."

I had to hide my smile. He was actually fairly accurate. But I was pretty sure that Edward hadn't meant it in that context. "Well, it is kind of a big deal," I tried to soothe him. "It's a big decision."

Jake was having none of it. He shook his head, biting his lower lip. "No, I just think he doesn't want a kid."

My heart broke. I wanted to reassure him, but that wasn't my place. I didn't want to assume anything either. I was pretty sure that both Edward and I had made it plain where we were heading. But, up to this point, we hadn't said anything to the kids that was specific or concrete. Had I messed up by not saying it?

"I don't think that's it, Jake," I tried again.

Jake just shook his head again. "That must be it." He said it with such assurance that I knew there was something else that had convinced him of this belief, something more than just a "I'll have to think about it."

"Why do you say that?" I asked, brushing my fingers over his hair. He had Mac's hair, very thick and straight.

Jake looked up at me, misery clear in his eyes. "He hasn't come around much since I asked him," he finally confessed after a long moment of silence. "I think I made him mad. He doesn't want a kid, and he doesn't want to keep me!"

With that, Jake started crying. Then he bolted up from his chair and ran up the stairs. Seconds later, I heard his door slam. Hard. I sighed as I pondered how to handle this. I couldn't fix it. That was Edward's job. He hadn't intentionally upset Jake, but as I had learned long ago, it wasn't your intentions that got you into trouble. It's what actually happened or, more precisely, what kids _thought_ had happened.

Edward had a bridge to mend.

I thought about the best way to approach Edward. After coming up with some pretty complex plans, I finally decided to go with simple and straightforward. It had worked for us so far. Tell him what Jake thought, ask him what he was thinking about Jake's request, and go from there. I smiled to myself, thinking about Jake's desire to "keep" Edward. I knew what that felt like. I would tell him that Jake just needed reassurance. Jake needed to know that Edward wanted to keep him – keep all of us. I would just tell him straight out.

I had a feeling I knew what Edward's response would be.

And I was sure that it could mend a small boy's heart.


	26. Chapter 26: Mac's Faith

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: This is set on the first morning after Charlie has met Edward**__**.**_

**#26: Mac's Faith**

_**Bella's POV**_

I had gotten up early, even beating my dad. That didn't happen very often. I took my cup of coffee out on the porch. The sun wasn't even all the way up yet and I savored the few moments of peace and privacy. I was happy to have my parents here, and Will and Josh, but these quiet moments were lovely. I didn't often get them.

I had finished my first cup and was well on my second when I heard the sliding glass door open and my father came out onto the patio. "Hey, baby girl," he murmured, taking a sip from his own mug.

"Morning, Dad," I replied with a smile. He sat down in the chair next to me. "Jake up yet?" He'd be the first usually.

Dad smiled and shook his head. "Little tyke was snoring away when I peeked in his room."

"He was so excited about all of you visiting that I think he's worn out," I said.

We were silent for a while. We had always been comfortable with silence. Mom and Will liked to fill it up with words, but with us, it was usually just fine to be quiet. Dad finished his first cup and got up to get a second. Like me, he needed his caffeine fix to be really coherent. It was a bad habit, but not one I was willing to break. As vices go, it was pretty tame.

Vices…

Now there was an interesting thought. I had gained a new vice over the last few months. In fact, that had been what finally drove me from my bed so early this morning. Thoughts of Edward filled my dreams, my thoughts. I wanted him. Yes, physically. Oh yes, physically. The things I did to that man in my dreams were probably illegal in a few places.

But much more than that, I just wanted him. I wanted to keep him, as Jake said. I knew exactly how Jake felt. When Edward had told Jake he could keep him, something had unfurled inside of me, letting want and need fly free. All the unspoken desires of my heart clamored for attention.

I had recognized the commitment in those words to a child. Edward had too. If he hadn't, I would have let him speak them.

Will and Josh had given him their full approval, though I wasn't surprised. Will had already questioned me endlessly and he had always been pleased with my answers. I suspected that he had been talking to the boys too, though he would have been subtle about it. Jake would have been singing Edward's praises; Emmett might have grumbled but he would have been honest in his feedback. So…Edward had gotten them on "his" side.

My mother had adored him. While my mother was flighty and didn't always think things through, she did possess an uncanny instinct for knowing what people were at their core. She could see through the masks to the ugliness or beauty that was inside. It was hard to fool her. She might act like she didn't have a deep thought in her head sometimes, but there was a shrewd woman lurking beneath the façade. My father had come to trust her intuition and so had I.

So if Renee said he was a gem, then a gem he was. Like I needed anyone to tell me that.

Only my father had remained silent on the subject so far and I suspected that when he sat down beside me, coffee cup in hand, I would finally hear his thoughts on the matter.

The sliding glass door opened and Dad looked more awake. He sat down and took another sip. "So…"

I smiled and looked at him. "Well, what did you think of him?"

A sheepish look crossed my father's face. "How'd you know?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Dad, we think alike, remember?"

He smiled at me and shook his head. "That we do, little girl, that we do." He took a deep breath. "Well, I took a good look at him yesterday when I surprised him at work. Barty was spot on about where he'd be and what he'd be doing."

"That was sneaky, you know, calling the Major." Never mind that I had done it myself before Edward had taken Emmett off that first morning. You don't just send your kid off with anyone, uniform or not.

Dad shrugged, clearly unapologetic. "Anyway, I got a good gander at him with his men yesterday. You can tell a lot about a man by seeing how he does with men he can order around."

"And?"

Dad grunted. "He did just fine." That was high praise indeed in Charlie speak.

"Yeah, he's pretty fine," I agreed and Dad snorted and shook his head. He didn't like to be reminded that I was a grown woman with grown up needs. I tried not to rub it in his face but sometimes the urge was irresistible. Like now.

"He's a good man," Dad finally said.

"Yes, Dad, he is," I agreed.

"And you love him," Dad continued.

I nodded. No use denying it; it was there on my face every time I saw him, in my voice every time I talked about him. "Yes, I do."

"He loves you and he loves your boys."

I turned and smiled at my Dad, knowing I had tears in my eyes. That was okay, there was no one here but him to see them. And he wouldn't tell. We kept each other's secrets. "Yeah. Hard to believe, but yeah."

Dad fell silent for a long moment and then cleared his throat. "You know, Mac called me before he deployed…that time."

Mac had always liked to call my Dad and make sure he'd keep an eye out for us. It had been a sweet, but unnecessary gesture. Until that last time. Then I really _had_ needed my father, and he had come through just like always. I nodded, biting my lip.

"We talked about the usual stuff, and then…" Dad sighed and chewed on his lower lip too. "Well, baby girl, I don't know exactly how to say this so I'm just gonna come right out and say the words." He looked at me. "He said if something happened he wanted you to move on, when the time was right. He wanted you to be happy."

I blinked. The tears threatened. My breath felt locked in my throat. Mac… It was funny how it still hit me sometimes, this aching sense of loss. I had loved him; I still did. I always would. But somehow Edward had worked his way into my heart too. It didn't seem odd or wrong to love them both. It seemed like fate.

"He loved you, baby girl," Dad continued. "And he wanted you to have a good life, even if he wasn't there to share it with you." He reached out and squeezed my hand. "He trusted you, Bells. He trusted you to make sure that any man you brought into your life would be good for your boys too. He knew you'd put them first. I think he'd approve of this Edward fellow. He'd like the way Edward is with his boys. He'd be glad to know that you found someone worthy of all of you."

I was pretty sure I had never heard my father string that many words together. My throat grew thick. I was overwhelmed - not only with my father's sudden abilities to be eloquent, but with Mac's trust. Mac had trusted me. He had trusted me with our sons. He had trusted me to make sure that any man who came into our lives would be as good for them as he was for me. He had wanted me to be happy, no matter what. Suddenly I realized just how much Mac had loved me.

It might have made me doubt what I had with Edward. Instead it just cemented what I already knew. I had proven Mac's faith in me. I had found a good man, a great man, one who would have gotten Mac's approval. Edward was good for me, but also for Mac's sons, and that was the best gift I could ask for. It was a gift Mac had wanted for me.

I felt a sense of peace descend.

I looked at my dad and gave a shaky smile. "Yeah, Edward's pretty special." Then I smiled wider. "And we're keeping him." Jake had had it right all along.

Dad returned the grin. "So Jake told me."

I shrugged. "When the kid's right, the kid's right."

We drank our coffee and enjoyed the quiet morning.


	27. Ch 27: The Six Degrees of Charlie Swan

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: This is always the back story I had imagined for Charlie and Barty. So, here is Bella's first phone call to Major Hutchinson**_.

**#27 Six Degrees of Charlie Swan**

I was nervous. I could admit to that. A part of me felt guilty. It wasn't usually a good idea to call up a commanding officer for_ any_ reason. I didn't know Edward Cullen and I didn't want to cause any problems for him. But if this man was going to be alone with my son I had to make sure Emmett would be in good hands. There was no way in hell that some stranger, even if he looked like a Greek god and smelled like paradise, was going to take my son off alone all day without me having an idea of what type of man he was.

Mr. Cullen, he of the smooth, sexy, raspy voice, had been kind enough to leave me the phone number for his commanding officer. That made things much easier, but I would have gotten the information no matter what. A lifetime of dealing with the military had left me well equipped to deal with the red tape and ins and outs of it all. I knew the lingo. I knew how to navigate the complicated waters.

It was late, but I was determined. It only took me three phone calls to get the man himself. It helped that I still knew people who knew people. It was kind of like the mafia – you never really left the life behind.

"Hutchinson here." I relaxed then, feeling at home with the crisp, brusque tone of the man I had basically hunted down.

"Major Hutchinson?" I asked politely.

"That's me," he answered in a softer voice. That was the other thing I had counted on – military men were very polite to woman for the most part, especially the older ones. Chivalry wasn't dead as far as they were concerned and it showed. I wasn't above using it to my advantage either.

"Yes sir," I began. "Well this might sound a little odd. But my son Emmett…." I sighed and decided I might as well get all out in the open. "Well, the thing is sir, my husband died in Iraq two years ago and our oldest son has been having a bit of a difficult time of it."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, ma'am," Major Hutchinson offered politely, even though he must have been wondering why the hell I was calling _him_.

"Thank you, sir," I replied. "He did something he shouldn't have, in fact, he broke a Sergeant Major Cullen's windshield and Mr. Cullen was kind enough to make arrangements to have Emmett work for him to pay back the cost of the windshield."

"Ah, I see," Major Hutchinson said. "Yes, that sounds like Sergeant Major Cullen."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "So he is under your command?" Okay, this might actually work out after all.

"Yes, ma'am, he most certainly is," Major Hutchinson assured me. "He's a fine soldier. He works with the younger soldiers all the time, ma'am, training them, whipping them into shape. He'll do right by your son."

"Thank you," I said. "My father was in the Army and he told me that I should just call you to make myself feel better. I honestly do hate to bother you, but this is my son and…" I laughed a little.

"Why of course you'd want to check," the Major said. "My wife would have done the same thing."

"Yes, you know how it is," I told him.

"Yes, ma'am, I sure do. I've been in the Army a long time and sometimes boys get a little out of hand. Doesn't mean they're bad kids, they just need to be directed back to where they should be."

"Yes sir," I said. _And I was trying. Oh God, I was trying_.

"Does your father live close by, ma'am?" the Major asked. "Could he take the boy in hand for a bit?" This was also common, I thought. Everyone wanted to help and_ fix_ the problem. It was like talking to my Dad.

"Well, actually, no," I answered. "After…After my husband died we moved from Ft. Hood to here. My parents will eventually retire here and I wanted to go ahead and get us settled so…" Had I made the right decision? I was starting to second guess myself. At the time it had seemed so important to get someplace far removed from memories of Mac.

"Ah, yes, I understand." Then there was a chuckle from the other end of the line. "I know the odds are against it, but I was just wondering if maybe I ever met your father. The missus and I have been stationed all over the place and you never know."

I laughed because this was a game I was familiar with; I had labeled it "The Six Degrees of Charlie Swan." We too, had been all over the country and it was odd how someone almost always knew someone who knew someone who knew my father. "His name is Charles Swan, sir. He was an MP."

There was a moment of long silence on the other end. "No kidding?" the Major seemed shocked. "Well now, this is a nice surprise." I heard a laugh. "Your father might not recognize my name, but you ask him if he remembers an incident at Ft. Riley where he drove a first lieutenant home. He might remember because my wife gave him coffee and some of the best pound cake to ever grace a fork."

I laughed. "I'll ask him, sir. I'll do that. And thank you for your time. I feel better now about Sergeant Major Cullen taking Emmett with him tomorrow."

"He'll watch over your boy, I can assure you of that. He's solid and dependable. I'd trust my granddaughters with him and that's about the best recommendation I can give a person."

I ignored the fluttering in my heart at hearing Mr. Cullen praised. I told myself firmly that I was glad only that I didn't have to worry about Emmett. I was not at _all_ pleased to hear that the Sergeant Major might actually be a good man. No, that wasn't it at all.

"Thank you, sir, and have a good evening."

** ~THTF~**

When Major Barty Hutchinson hung up the phone he stared at it for a moment. It always amazed him when something proved, once again, that the world was a small place indeed and every deed, whether for good or for ill, circled back and impacted lives. His wife was in the door of his office. "Everything okay?" Carolyn asked. As always, she could tell his mood at a glance.

"Yeah," he replied, rubbing his hands over his face. "Just remembering."

Carolyn came over and settled in his lap. They had been married for a long time, but he still liked the warmth of her close to him. He was quiet, as he usually was, and Carolyn just sort of sat there and shared his silence. He would speak when he was ready.

"What were you thinking about?" she finally asked, when she felt him take a deep breath.

He answered honestly. "I was thinking about John."

Carolyn smiled sadly. John had been their only son. Their oldest. Clarissa was born when John was five; Andrea had arrived just two years later. They had been the perfect American family with no reason to think it would ever change. They hadn't known that John was allergic to bees. It had been a hot August day and by nightfall, twelve year old John was gone. They had had their kids early in life, and nothing had prepared them for the pain of losing a child.

Pushing aside the memory, Carolyn brushed back Barty's thinning hair. "What brought that on?" They didn't talk about John often. The passage of two decades had dimmed the pain, but not the loss.

Barty smiled and shook his head. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

"Try me," Carolyn challenged.

He looked at her. "Do you remember the winter after John died?" Of course she did. How could she forget? Carolyn nodded. "Remember when I got so drunk that an MP brought me home? And instead of locking me up, he just told me to sleep it off? Even though I'd been a right ass in the bar and started a fight and…" Barty shook his head again. It had been a very dark time in his life. Not just because of John, but because he had almost lost Carolyn in the girls while he flailed around in his grief. That night, though, had been the start of learning to deal with John's death. They had all turned a corner that night.

"Swan," Carolyn whispered. "I remember his name because it seemed so…feminine," she smiled. "And he was so…_not_ feminine."

"Charlie Swan," Barty murmured. He remembered. He had thanked Charlie Swan a few days later, sober and sorry for the trouble he had caused. Charlie Swan had told him how sorry he was for their son's loss. He hadn't talked to Charlie again, but he had seen him around base. They had nodded at each other. They didn't need to say more.

"Yes, that was it, Charlie Swan," Carolyn mused.

"Well, that phone call? That was his daughter," Barty told his wife.

"I hope everything's all right." She didn't seem surprised at the connection. She was probably used to such things.

"It is, well, not completely I guess." Carolyn gave him a look that told him to explain. "Her boy broke a windshield and he's been given a chance to work off the damages. That windshield belong to one of my men, Sergeant Major Cullen, and she wanted to make sure that the Sergeant Major was trustworthy enough to be alone with her son."

"You can't be too careful now days," Carolyn agreed. Then she frowned "Is the boy a troublemaker?"

"No, I don't think so," Barty said. "His father was killed in the war. It can't be an easy thing to adjust to." They were both silent, well acquainted with the rocky road that came along with grief. "I think Cullen will be good for him. He's a good man…a good soldier. He might be just what the boy needs right now. He'll whip him into shape." For Barty, there was nothing more satisfying than being given a boy and molding him into a man that made his family – and his country – proud.

Carolyn smiled. "You don't think…?"

"Think what?"

Carolyn had seen the Sergeant Major when she visited her husband one day. She was married but not blind. Edward Cullen was a very good-looking man. If both of her daughters had not been happily married, she might have tried to finagle an introduction between one of them and the Sergeant Major, though Barty would have thrown a fit. "You don't think that anything will develop between your Cullen and Charlie Swan's daughter, do you?"

Barty snorted. "Hardly," he said. "Cullen's a confirmed bachelor. Dates, but that's about all. He's sort of a hero to the younger men; they think he's got some sort of secret for getting the ladies." Barty rolled his eyes. Of course, he admitted, he hadn't seen much to indicate that Cullen was roaming. Not so much as one phone call at work. Getting older gave a man perspective, and maybe Cullen had decided to calm down a bit. It happened, even to the wildest of men. Wasn't he himself a perfect example of that?

Carolyn just smiled and kissed his forehead. It was what she always did when she thought she was right and he was wrong. "We'll see," she murmured.

Barty shook his head and kissed Carolyn's cheek. "You're a romantic at heart, Carolyn Hutchinson."

She quirked her lips at him and nodded her agreement. "I'll bet on life – and love – every time."

"You're wrong," he told her firmly. "He'll help the boy work off the cost and that'll be it."

Carolyn just smiled as she slipped from Barty's lap. She was humming a little tune as she returned to the kitchen to put up the dishes. She just had this feeling…


	28. Chapter 28: The Butterfly Effect

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: This is just a short little side story with Carlisle and Esme. It doesn't really relate to Bigger, but we haven't heard from these two in a while.**_

**#28 The Butterfly Effect**

Carlisle and Esme were walking on the beach at dawn. It was part of their usual routine, at least three days a week, weather permitting. They had been doing so for the last decade. They held hands, like they did when they were dating. Esme sighed with contentment as she looked out over the dark ocean while they walked.

"What's on your mind?" Carlisle asked and she smiled up at him.

Esme shrugged. "Just thinking," she replied quietly. The beach was almost deserted at this hour, and that was just how they liked it.

"Good thoughts, I hope?" His voice was tender.

"Yes," she answered simply. He waited for her to expand on her answer. "We have a good life, don't you think?"

"Yes," Carlisle replied. "We're blessed."

"I talked to Masen yesterday," Esme said.

"How's the move coming?"

Esme laughed. "Sheer chaos, as is to be expected."

"It'll be good to have them so close," Carlisle mused. "I've missed them, especially the boys."

"Yes, well, it sounds as if we're going to triple the number of grandsons we have before too long," Esme teased.

Carlisle grinned and nodded. "Yes, I get that impression too." He was pleased at that development, happy to see his son so happy. They had worried about Edward, worried that he would be alone.

"It's about time," Esme complained a little. Not too much, she was too thrilled with what her son had finally found to be too bitter. Still… He might have done so sooner. Of course, then it would not have been Bella. And Bella was perfect for him, anyone could see that.

Carlisle laughed and stopped to kiss her. "He had to wait for the perfect woman," he told her, echoing her thoughts as he so often did. "He wasn't as lucky as me to find her right away."

"Well…when you put it that way," she muttered. Then she laughed and pulled him down for a much longer kiss. Then they resumed walking, still hand in hand.

"Have I told you how much I enjoy our morning walks?" Esme said after a long silence.

"Me too," Carlisle admitted. They had started these walks ten years ago. One morning they had looked at each other over the breakfast table and realized that they had let themselves become virtual strangers, living in the same house but getting more distant with every passing year. Instead of throwing in the towel and calling it quits, or even worse, just letting things continue on as they were, they had decided to reclaim their marriage.

It hadn't been anything dramatic, just a very real commitment to reestablishing the connection that had made them fall in love with each other in the first place. They cemented their friendship, and in doing so, they had reclaimed their romance. Their shared walks, holding hands and talking about things, had been their first step. They had both been pleasantly surprised at how quickly and easily they fell into a new routine, one in which they showed the other how much they were loved. Good habits were as easy to start as bad ones, as Esme's mother once told her.

"Masen was talking about Bella's brother," Esme continued. Carlisle followed the conversation switch with the ease of a lifetime's familiarity.

"Will?" He had learned all about Bella's family. Edward seemed to get particularly talkative when the topic was Bella or her family.

"Will, yes," Esme said with a nod. "And his partner, Josh."

"Josh is a doctor too, right?" Carlisle asked.

"Yes, a plastic surgeon," Esme replied thoughtfully. "He donates quite a bit of his time to charitable causes, doing surgery for free for those who can't afford it. He even travels to other countries."

"And that's got you thinking….what?" Carlisle was wise to his wife's ways. She was obviously thinking hard on something and it had to do with Will and Josh.

"Well…" Esme took a deep breath. "Honestly, we've been selfish, don't you think, Carlisle?" They stopped again, still holding hands. He brushed his knuckles over her cheek.

"In what way?" He didn't deny it. They were blessed, but comfortable in their lives. Yes, they both volunteered their time, but they were still blessed far beyond what most people enjoyed.

"You're a doctor," Esme said. "I'm a nurse. We have skills, Carlisle. Skills that help people, skills that are needed out there."

He smiled, following her train of thought. "So you want to travel the world, do you? You want us to use our old hands for good. Is that what you're saying?"

She shrugged. "In a way, I guess." Her head tilted. "I wasn't thinking world travel, at least not right away. I'm selfish enough not to want to be too far from our sons and their families for too long. But you don't have to leave the country to find people who need what we have to offer, you know."

"That's true," Carlisle said. "_Very_ true, unfortunately."

"So maybe we should branch out of our comfortable lives every now and then. Let's see what we can do to reach out to others who need us. Our sons love us, but they don't_ need_ us like some families do. We can still enjoy our lives, but maybe we can make them…I don't know…a little _bigger_, maybe?"

"Is that what you'd like to do?" he asked her.

She paused for a moment and thought about it. Finally, Esme nodded. "Yes, yes I do. I want something more. What I mean is that I want to _give_ something more. I have everything I could ever want or need. But we're not getting any younger." Carlisle snorted his agreement. "I'd like to think we still have something to offer. Our training gives us that something and I'd like to put it to good use. I'm not saying we'll do it forever. Or that we'll ever venture off into the world, but I'd like to at least start by giving of our time here at home."

"There are places all over the country in dire need of skilled medical help," Carlisle mused aloud.

Esme nodded. "Exactly. Just last month I read about the Appalachian region. They're severely underserved there. That's not so far from home. Maybe after the holidays we could see about renting a house there for a few months and making ourselves useful."

Carlisle leaned down and kissed her again. "You, my love, are even more amazing and fascinating than you were when I first met you."

She laughed and leaned against his chest, feeling a sense of peace descend on her. This was the right thing for them at this point in their lives. They could still make a difference; they still had something to offer. She looked up at him. And they still had each other, which was the best thing of all.

"I love you, Carlisle Cullen," she murmured.

His eyes twinkled with laughter. "I think, Mrs. Cullen, that if we start back home now we could be in our bed within twenty minutes, cuddling and…" He shrugged. "Well, we'll just see how things pan out, shall we?"

"I like the way you think," Esme approved. "I really do."

He tugged at her hand and they turned around. "Let's go home…and seal the deal." He wriggled his eyebrows at her.

She laughed, shaking her head. "You're still as randy as you were when I met you."

"Yes, but at least now I know what I'm doing," he teased.

"Oh yes, you do," Esme whispered, now tugging at his hand, urging him to hurry. "But maybe you should refresh my memory."

_**Author's Note: Edward says this post is gross. He's sitting in a corner with his fingers in his ears and humming. For once, Masen agrees with his brother.**_


	29. Chapter 29: Love is Patient

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: There was a request to know Bella's thoughts during part of Chapter 52. Here you go. I hope you like it.**_

**Chapter 29: Love is Patient**

__

_**Love is always patient and kind; it is never jealous; love is never boastful or conceited; it is never rude or selfish; it does not take offense, and is not resentful. (1 Corinthians 13, 4-13)  
**_

**~THTF~**

I watched, mesmerized; shock and dazed amazement were holding me in place. Images flashing by, images of a life I had thought I would get to enjoy forever. A life I had been sure was shattered beyond all repair when two men showed up at my door to give me the news that broke everything.

Then the last picture flashed – one of my favorites. Not our last picture as a family, but I knew immediately when it had been taken.

It had been a year before Mac left, the week before the 4th of July. I remembered because he had taken a week of leave and we had decided to go on a camping trip. Seven days in the wilderness with five males might have intimidated some women, but I had enjoyed it. They liked peeing in the woods and I didn't mind cooking over a campfire, though finding a tree to do my business wasn't my favorite part of the experience. That picture had been taken the first day at our campsite. We had been happy and silly and stupidly unaware of what the future held. I didn't know then I would only have him for another year. Fifty-two weeks. Fifty-two Mondays and Tuesdays and then…. All gone. It sounded like nothing, like the blink of an eye.

And it had been. Before I realized it, that year was over and Mac was gone.

But in that picture, he lived forever. Forever young, forever happy, forever ours. We didn't have to lose him completely. He'd always be there with us if we kept him alive in our memories. And Edward wanted us to do that; hell he was _helping_ us do that.

I couldn't even look at the boys. Later, I would reassure them. I would tell them how precious this gift was. For now, I had to take it all in. It wasn't just the DVDs and what they represented. No, the movies were amazing but it was so much more than that.

If my father had given them to me, I would have been thrilled. If it had been my brother, I wouldn't have been surprised. It would have been such a "Will" thing to do. But it had been _Edward_. Edward. The one man in my life who had a reason to be jealous of Mac; the one person who might have asked me to try to bury our memories of Mac in the interest of our relationship – and instead _he_ was the one who had done this.

Finally, I couldn't stand the feel of their eyes on me anymore. I turned to Edward. "That was…perfect." I had to tell him that before I made my escape. He had to know that this gift meant everything to me. "Absolutely perfect in every way."

I stood up. My knees felt weak and wobbly. Something warm was on my cheek.

I just needed…a moment. "I'll be right back." Somehow, I knew Edward would recognize that I just needed a moment of privacy. He would wait, as he always did. He always let me figure things out in my own time, never pushing.

I knew that the boys might think it was because I was upset. Maybe Edward thought the same thing. I would reassure them later. Edward would reassure them now.

This moment, however, this moment was for me. I had a lot to take in.

How often does a woman realize, with startling clarity and absolute certainty, that she's been given a second chance at happiness? A second shot at life? How are you supposed to act when you find out that you've been given everything – twice?

What I had shared with Mac had been so special, so real and life-altering, that I had never even considered that I might find its equal again. To even dream of it seemed greedy and selfish. To find it two times would be…impossible, unbelievable, even beyond the realm of possibility.

Then my Emmett had broken a windshield and a man had pulled up into my driveway. A man who, for some reason known only to God and perhaps some gullible, merciful cupid, wanted me. Wanted us. _Loved_ us – every single one of us.

If I had ever had a moment's doubt how he felt about my sons, the moment I saw those DVDs stacked up in that box, I had known. I would never have to doubt again. We might argue and fight and get annoyed with each other, but he loved us. He wasn't going anywhere. A man who could embrace the memory of the man _we_ had all loved – and mourned – has made a commitment that was bigger than any marriage vow.

This was a man to whom I could entrust my sons – Mac's sons.

"Oh, Mac," I whispered. "I wish you could see this. I hope you can…wherever you are right now." I wanted to cry. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to run and scream like a kid on the first day of summer break. I wanted to hug my boys and tell them that even though their father wasn't going to be there, that he would have approved of this man who had come into our lives. I wanted them to know that Edward would be there in their father's stead, with their father's blessing and approval.

Fate had worked miracles with a rock and a windshield.

"He loves our boys, Mac.," I murmured. I closed my eyes and Mac was with me in that bathroom. He waited patiently for me to speak. He would stay as long as I kept my eyes closed and I believed.

It was all a matter of faith. I had that now. I had it in abundance.

"He loves them," I said again. "He tries so hard to be what they need." I laughed. "Jake got to him first." I shook my head. "You know how he is."

I could almost hear Mac's murmur of agreement. How often had we laughed ourselves silly over Jake's antics?

"Emmett has tried so hard to resist it, but he asks when Edward will be over now. He needs a man around, Mac. He's so strong willed." I smiled. "He's so like you. I worried for him, Mac. I worried what might happen to him if I wasn't strong enough to keep where he needed to be."

Mac waited. He listened. He had always been a good listener, letting me ramble and rant and vent when I needed to.

"But Edward doesn't push him," I continued. "He lets Emmett come to him. He just lets Emmett set the pace and that's what Em needs."

I took a deep breath, felt it fill up my lungs while Mac and Edward filled up my heart.

"And Seth…" I shook my head. "He's always loved music. But you and I…." I laughed. "We don't have a musical bone in our bodies, do we, sweetheart? But Edward does. And Seth is coming out of his shell when he holds that old guitar in his hands. It's wonderful to watch. He's finally got something that's just his, that's only Seth."

I closed my eyes tightly to make sure that Mac would stay and hear me out.

"And our Sammy…" I sighed. "God I'm so proud of him, and Edward is too. You can see it in Edward's face when he talks to him. He's as astounded by him just like we were. But he never forgets that he's still just a kid."

There was nothing but silence in the little bathroom but I still felt Mac there. "And Jake loves him, Mac. He really does. It's been so hard for him. I could see him grieving for you…silently…but so, so deeply. He's so sensitive. You know how he is. But he hides it, our little clown. Edward and Jake, they're like…I don't know…_connected_ somehow." I held myself closely, wrapping my arms around me because Mac couldn't do it. "Honestly, I think he fell in love with Jake first…and _then_ me. And you know what? I'm okay with that."

Just silence, but I knew Mac was listening.

"He loves me, Mac. He loves me as much as you did. And I love him. It's different, but just as big, just as….I don't know what else to call it. What I feel for him doesn't take away anything I felt for you, Mac. I wouldn't change a moment of our lives together. It was so, so sweet, Mac. And you were so good to me. But I know you loved me enough to want me to be happy, so that's what I'm going to do, Mac. I'm going to love Edward and we're going to be happy together. He'll watch over me, whether I want him to or not." I couldn't help but laugh at the thought of my adorable control freak. "But more importantly, he'll watch over our boys. He'll guide them on their way to being men,_ good_ men that you would be proud of."

I knew I had to go back out there soon. I didn't want them to worry that they had hurt my feelings. They had given me the world.

"So thank you, Mac, for sending him my way if that was you that day," I said with a little smile. It wouldn't have surprised me. Mac had always been a prankster. It would be just like him to lead a man into my life that way. If such things were possible, it was completely a Mac thing to do.

And I opened up my eyes, because it didn't matter if Mac was there with me at that very moment. I would carry him always in my heart. I didn't have to let go of Mac to love Edward. I could hold onto them both. Mac was my past, but Edward was my future.

"I love you, Mac…I always will…Forever, you know that. This doesn't change that."

I took a deep breath and opened the door. I knew that whatever happened, we'd be all right. We'd be better than all right.

My eyes met Edward's…He was standing next to Sam. Of course. He would have comforted him when I made my big, dramatic exist. Edward had stepped into a father's role without hesitation, all without taking anything away from Mac. It was a very fine line to walk, but Edward did it with grace and generosity.

I hugged my son, giving him an extra squeeze. "Thank you," I said.

I gave my Edward a hug too and then kissed him on his beautiful lips. Actually, at that moment I was torn between bawling like a baby and shoving Edward up against a wall and having my way with him.

I glanced around and saw our audience. Okay, I would just play this cool. "And thank you," I told him. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for loving my sons. Thank you for not trying to rip away what they've got left of their father. Thank you for being you. "I love you."

And it didn't feel wrong to say it, to know that my heart was filled up with both of them. Because Edward had let me know that it was okay to love them both.

_I told you that your heart had room, Bells_.


	30. Chapter 30: Theories of Relativity

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Obviously, the boys had a discussion about Edward's intention toward their mother. This is how it all came about…**_

**#30 Theories of Relativity**

Emmett had just hung up from talking to Rose when his door opened. Seth walked in and plopped down on the bed, tossing a football up in the air and catching it. Emmett was just grateful he didn't have his guitar in his hands. For a while all Emmett heard was the soft sound of the football hitting Seth's hands. Then up it would go again.

When Seth heaved his third heavy sigh in almost as many minutes, Emmett stopped flipping through his gaming magazine and looked at his brother.

"What's up?" he asked. Seth was quiet, but when something bothered him, sometimes Emmett was the only one who could get it out of him.

Seth tossed the football up in the air one more time, and then turned to lie on his side while he looked at Emmett. "What do you think's going on with Mom and Edward?"

Emmett quirked an eyebrow at his brother and snorted. "They're doing the dirty, obviously."

Seth sat up with a sigh and brushed his hair out of his face. "Gross, Em. Just…that's gross."

"What? You're the one who asked," Emmett pointed out.

"That's not what I meant," Seth said.

"Then what _do_ you mean?" Emmett asked.

"When he gave Mom those DVDs she was pretty…I guess excited isn't the word," Seth said. "But she liked them…a lot."

Emmett shrugged. "Yeah. So?"

"Well, that's not the kind of gift you give a woman when the only thing you're interested in is…" Seth's voice trailed off and his ears turned red.

"Now who's being gross?" Emmett mocked.

"You know what I mean," Seth insisted.

"Okay, okay, I know what you mean," Emmett replied with a scowl. He tossed the magazine aside. It was obvious that Seth had something on his mind and Emmett knew from experience that while getting Seth to open up was difficult, getting him to shut up once he did was even worse.

"So…what's the deal with them?" Seth asked.

"He says he's keeping Jake," Emmett pointed out.

"Yeah, I know," Seth replied. "The little turd's been repeating it every hour on the hour."

"Newsflash! Little brothers are a pain in the butt," Emmett said dryly.

"So are _big_ brothers," Seth retorted.

"Bite me," Emmett said.

"Oh, clever comeback," Seth mocked.

"I could pound you instead," Emmett offered.

"Nah, I'm good," Seth answered. They had engaged in more than their share of scuffles over the years and it pissed their mom off every time. No one wanted Mom angry. She had made them hold hands for an entire day once when one of their arguments had gotten spectacularly out of hand. The memory was still embarrassing three years later. The boys were silent for a while and Emmett went back to reading his magazine. Seth started tossing the football up in the air again. Then suddenly he looked at Emmett and asked, "You think they'll get married?"

Emmett ripped a page of his magazine when his hand jerked. "What?"

"Do you think they'll get married?" Seth asked again, speaking very slowly as if Emmett had trouble comprehending the spoken word. "Which one of those words don't you understand?"

"What makes you say they're getting married?" Emmett asked, the magazine forgotten.

"I didn't say they were," Seth pointed out. "I was asking _you_ if you _thought_ they would."

"Why would they do that?"

Seth snorted and sat up again. "You big dummy, he loves her. That much is obvious, even if they weren't whispering it to each other all the time." He rolled his eyes a little.

Emmett blinked. What the hell? Seth must have recognized his confusion because he laughed and shook his head. "Em, do you honestly think he's going anywhere?"

"I dunno." Emmett shrugged.

"I think we should face it. The guy is here to stay."

"You don't sound too unhappy about it," Emmett accused.

"I'm not," Seth admitted. "He's a good guy." There was a pause. "I mean, he's not Dad, but…" Seth shrugged.

"So, a lot of guys are good guys. That doesn't mean I want them around Mom."

"Now you're just being pig-headed."

"Am not."

"Says the pig," Seth retorted.

"I can still pound you," Emmett offered.

Seth sighed and shook his head. "Em, why are you fighting this so hard?"

"Why _aren't_ you?" Em shot back.

"Because he makes Mom happy," Seth said quietly.

It was the one answer that took the wind out of Emmett's sails. "You think?"

Seth rolled his eyes. "You've seen the two of them together." He nodded. "Yeah, he makes her happy, Em."

"I know," Emmett admitted morosely. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Well, the way I see it, you can just accept that it's coming or you can fight it and make everyone miserable and it will end up happening anyway."

Emmett fell silent, brooding. "You think he makes Mom _really_ happy?"

"Dude," Seth said. "The guy just gave her home movies of her dead husband…our dad…to show her that he loves her. That's pretty obvious if you ask me."

"Yeah, but he's our _Dad_," Emmett protested.

"Yeah, and how many kids have you talked to at school whose _step_-father and_ real_ father are at each other's throats all the time?" Seth asked pointedly.

Emmett frowned.

"So…what do you think? Marriage?" Seth pushed.

Emmett shrugged. "I dunno. They haven't said anything like that."

"Maybe they're afraid to tell us," Seth mused.

Emmett paused. "Maybe."

There was a knock on his door and then it opened to reveal Sam. Sam took one look at the two of them and closed the door behind him. "Uh oh," he said. "What did you do?" he looked at Emmett.

"Hey! Why does everyone always think _I've_ done something?" He looked from Sam to Seth. They both just stared back. "Okay, it's usually me," he admitted. "But not this time." He nodded at Seth. "Go 'head, tell him your theory."

"What theory?" Sam asked.

"Not a theory," Seth corrected. "A question."

Sam shrugged and sat on Seth's bed. "So what's the question?"

Seth looked at Emmett, who just nodded again. "Well," Seth began. "I was asking Emmett if he thought Mom and Edward would get married."

Emmett had half-expected that Sam would immediately dismiss that absurd notion. And together they would laugh at Seth and his idiotic ideas. Instead, Sam just frowned thoughtfully. That wasn't good news as far as Emmett was concerned. "Hmm…I guess it's a possibility," Sam finally said.

Emmett threw his magazine down on the floor. "Well that's just great."

Sam looked at Emmett in surprise. "Well, yeah, it kind of is, Em."

Emmett stared at his brother in shock. "What?"

Sam looked warily from Seth to Emmett and back again. He shrugged. "I'm just saying that well…I mean, Edward loves Mom. Don't you think?"

"So?" Emmett asked.

"So?" Sam asked indignantly. "Well don't you think that's a pretty important fact?"

"No," Emmett insisted stubbornly.

Sam took a deep breath. "Okay, Em, let me put it this way so that even your tiny little caveman brain can grasp this…" He paused. "Don't you think Dad would want Mom to be happy? For her to find someone that loved her? Or do you think Dad would want her to be lonely and miserable for the rest of her life?"

"I dunno," Emmett answered mulishly.

Sam looked at Seth. "There's no reasoning with him."

Emmett sighed and shook his head. "Can you honestly tell me that Dad would want Mom to marry Edward?"

"I think he would want Mom to be happy and Edward makes her happy," Sam insisted. "What do you think, Seth?"

Seth was silent for a long moment and then gave a jerky nod of his head. "Yeah, I think that Dad would want Mom to be happy." He stared at Emmett miserably. "Honestly, Emmett, you know he would."

Emmett's jaw clenched and he remained silent for a long moment. "Can we trust him to be good to Mom?" he asked quietly.

"What do you think?" Seth replied.

Emmett thought it over. He thought about doing the care packages that were going to soldiers. He thought about Edward's response about his father going back to Iraq when he didn't have to go. Honestly, it would have been a quick way for Edward to try and score points against his Dad. Instead, he had said that maybe Dad had good reasons. Even Grandpa had said that Edward seemed to be a good guy, and next to Dad, Grandpa was the man Emmett trusted most. Uncle Will and Uncle Josh had liked him too.

If Mom _had_ to get married again, wasn't it better that the guy was decent and got along with everyone? Someone who didn't mind them being around? He had heard enough horror stories at school about boyfriends and stepfathers who didn't give a crap about the kids and couldn't wait to get rid of them. At least Edward didn't seem to want to get rid of them. He actually seemed to _like_ having them around – even _Jake_, for goodness' sakes!

If it _had _to happen, then Edward was probably their best option.

"Yeah, he'll be good to Mom," Emmett finally admitted, though the confession was painful. "But we can't be sure they're gonna get married, no matter what you think."

"Well…we_ could_ be sure," Sam observed.

"How's that?" Emmett asked.

Sam gave them a slow smile. "We could ask him."

"Just come out and _ask_ him if he's gonna marry Mom?" Emmett asked incredulously. He thought about it and the more he thought about it, the better he liked the idea. It would let them know exactly what was happening between their mother and Edward. But it was the accompanying thought that had Emmett smiling. Coming out and asking would either scare Edward away, and much better that his Mom and Jake know now that the guy had no intention of "keeping" them. Or, and Emmett was reluctantly sure of that it would go down that way, Edward would make his declaration in no uncertain terms. Either way, they'd know what the hell was going on.

"Okay," Emmett said. "I'll do it."

"Do what?" Seth asked.

"Ask him what his plans are," Emmett replied as if that was obvious.

Seth shook his head. "Count me out," he said. "I think that's a very bad idea."

"I think it has merit," Sam countered.

"You're both nuts then," Seth said.

"I may be a lot of things, Seth, but I'm not crazy," Sam insisted.

"Me either," Emmett added. His brothers looked at him for a moment and then burst into laughter. "I'm not," he added petulantly.

Sam just shook his head. "Yeah, well, let me know how this all turns out." He got to the door and turned around, his expression speculative. "Wanna bet on the outcome?"

Emmett thought it over for a moment. "What's the bet?"

"Five bucks says he admits he wants to marry Mom," Sam said.

Emmett considered that. As much as he wanted to insist that Edward wasn't planning on sticking around, he had a feeling that Edward was very much planning on making himself a permanent fixture in their lives. And he wasn't about to lose any more money to his little brother. "I'm not taking that bet," he finally answered.

"So you _do_ see what we all see," Sam said softly. "He's here to stay, Em. He makes Mom happy. He loves her." Emmett stared at his brother. "So let's just try and be happy_ for_ her. Edward's a decent guy. You know that. You don't want to admit it, but you know it. If he wasn't, Mom would have sent him on his way a long time ago."

Emmett wouldn't say anything, but he nodded. Sam closed the bedroom door behind him.

Seth sprawled on his bed again, tossing the damned football in the air again. Emmett sulked on his bed. Then Seth turned to him and Emmett wanted to groan. "I wonder…" Seth began.

Emmett shook his head. "Well don't. Thinking so hard will only get you in trouble."

Seth made a face. "I was just wondering if they'd…"

Emmett tried to resist. He really did. Then he heaved a sigh of resignation and looked at Seth. "You wonder if they'll what?"

Seth grinned and shrugged. "I was just wondering if they'll have a baby."

Emmett muttered a curse word that would have gotten him in a lot of trouble and stomped out of the room. Marriage was one thing.

Another kid? Absolutely out of the question.


	31. Chapter 31: My Inner Cosmo Girl

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: Here's a lemon from Bella's POV. I didn't want to do the same scene just from another POV, so I chose one where I sort of cut away before they got to the "nitty gritty" as Edward likes to say. This is in the hotel room, from chapter 55 of Bigger.**_

**#31: My Inner Cosmo Girl**

About a year after Mac died, I set out on a mission. No one knew about it. I never talked to anyone about it. First, because the mission was a complete and total failure. Second, because I was ashamed and embarrassed – of the mission _and_ my failure. It was not my best moment.

It was the summer after Mac died and my parents were visiting us. I told them that I just needed an evening away and, being the good parents that they were, they told me to go and do something fun for myself and that they would watch the boys.

For the first time in years – a lifetime it seemed – I had found myself alone in a bar. I knew exactly what I was doing there; I knew exactly what I wanted.

I wanted to find a decent looking guy, one that held absolutely no appeal to me on any deeper level but whose exterior was moderately attractive. I wanted to find that guy and I was going to fuck him.

I was going to fuck him not because my body craved a man, but because I _wanted_ it to want a man. It worried me, the complete lack of desire that filled me up with emptiness. Mac and I had had a very satisfying sex life our whole marriage. Yeah, we hit some dry spots. We were normal and sometimes life interfered and I was tired or he was stressed because of work or the kids were sick… There were a hundred different reasons to keep us from connecting in that instinctual, physical way.

But we'd always overcome it because not only did we love each other, we wanted each other. I could still look at Mac across a room a decade after I married him and think, "Oh my God, I can't wait to get this man home and into our bed."

I'd catch him looking at me, licking his lips and adjusting himself. We weren't animals about it, but we did enjoy a good, healthy lust for each other. It had gotten us through some tough times, the ability to come together on the physical level. The physical bond had strengthened the emotional one.

But I had no more emotional bonds to a man, and a physical wasn't even a possibility. Then I had come up with the idea of scratching the itch that I wished was there, the itch I knew _should_ have been there. Women in their thirties still wanted sex, right? That's what Cosmo said so it had to be true.

I sat there on my barstool, feeling like a Cosmo drop out. I wasn't the oldest woman in the bar by a long shot, which should have made me feel better. But all I could think when I looked at those women in their forties and fifties, and fuck me, their sixties, was that I didn't want to end up like them.

I didn't want to spend my evenings in a bar after the boys were grown and gone, looking for something that resembled love, or at least affection, from a succession of strangers who really didn't give a shit about me. I didn't want to stink of desperation and fear and loneliness.

What the hell was I _doing_?

I had just made up my mind to leave when a voice beside me said, "May I buy you a drink?"

The fact that he said "may" instead of "can" made me pause. I'm a teacher, so I noticed stuff like that even when I don't want to. I closed my eyes briefly. I was going to leave. I'd decided that I'd rather live alone than try to replace something that had been good and healthy with something that was fleeting and destructive.

Mac couldn't be replaced with one night stands.

But a drink couldn't hurt right? Just one. I'd been drinking club soda. I was the single mother of four boys, driving while intoxicated just wasn't going to happen. I had kids to protect and provide for. So…one drink, I decided before I turned to look at him.

He was pleasant looking with a broad face that showed the effects of too much sun. Brown hair, blue eyes, nothing spectacular. I opened my mouth to accept the drink when I saw something in his eyes. He was hurting too. Whatever had driven him to this bar was probably as pathetic as my own reason.

We were both idiots.

He leaned in close to whisper something in my ear since the fucking music was so loud you couldn't hear your own thoughts and I caught a whiff of his scent. Stale beer and cigarettes. It made my stomach turn, which was odd, because I had smelled the same combination on Mac a hundred times and still cuddled up in his arms.

The difference was that this wasn't Mac and it wasn't right. It wasn't me.

"Sorry," I said with a shake of my head. "I was just leaving." He looked like he wanted to push the matter so I delivered my death blow. "I've got four sons at home and they don't like me to be late."

He blinked at me. The mention of kids was a mood killer and I had a lot of them. I smiled and slipped off the bar stool. I drove home, torn between gratitude at not having made a mistake and being pissed off that I couldn't even get laid anymore. I had cock blocked myself.

Cosmo girls would hang their heads in shame for me.

**~THTF~**

For some reason, that night came back to mind as I cuddled up beside Edward. What a fool I had been to think that what I had had with Mac could be replaced by a guy I didn't care about. First, it would never be replaced. But I had found something that was its equal, though different. Edward had claimed my heart as surely as Mac had. And second, I had been an idiot to think that the sweet fire of desire was gone forever. I had been so sure that night that passion and want was simply not going to be a part of my life again.

And I had been wrong. _So_ wrong.

Because Edward had marched in with his combat boots and that grin that made my girly parts tingle. So…desire was a part of me again. It filled me up instead of the awful emptiness. I wanted and I was wanted. Here, with Edward, I knew I could be absolutely certain of those things.

He kissed me. It was a sweet kiss, something he could have given me in front of his mother. Or maybe not, considering that we were both naked and twisted around each other like the "after" shot in a love story.

"Well, it seems like you were wrong, you know," he said softly. I tried to pay attention to his words but I got distracted by watching his lips move. God, the man had a gorgeous mouth. I wanted to lick it, to bite his lips just hard enough to make him gasp and arch against me.

"About what?" I finally managed to say and I wanted to groan. I needed to channel my inner Cosmo girl and come up with something sexy and alluring to say. Instead, I came up with _"About what?"_ Go Bella!

"Well, none of the boys got sick. You didn't get food poisoning and I didn't throw out my back." His tone was teasing and then he kissed me. And I got distracted by his lips again. That mouth should be illegal…or at least licensed. "And no alien attack either." License to Kill…Golden Eye…Pussy Galore… Shit, Edward would look hot in a tux like Bond. Cullen, Edward Cullen…. Focus, Bella!

I shrugged, playing it cool. "I took care of that when I made sure we did it before this weekend."

"_Did_ it?" Edward asked in astonishment. "And how is that different from nitty gritty, I ask? You gave me no end of shit about my word choice and now here you are just spouting off about _doing_ it."

"It's different because I said it, not you," I told him. Silly boy, doesn't he know that women retained the right to change the rules at any given moment and with no notice of intent?

"I'm detecting a bit of a double standard here."

"Yeah, there is." Duh. But he was adorable in his confusion. His lips were pouty. _I could give those lips something to do besides pout. You keep your lips that way, Edward, and someone might bite them…._

"That's not exactly fair." Fair? Was it fair that I wanted to jump him every moment of the day? Was it fair that his mouth was sculpted perfection and worked magic on my girly parts? Hell no, that wasn't fair.

I rolled my eyes at him. "You're a big boy. You know life isn't fair by now."

I had had enough talking. I needed more sexing. I had a lot of missed time to make up for, damn it. I kissed my way down his chest, wondering how long it would take him to get the idea. His dick twitched and I knew he was a very quick study. I looked up at him and saw that those perfect lips were parted and his breath was coming faster. His eyes were locked on my mouth and I knew exactly where he wanted it. He'd get it…eventually.

I kissed his belly, appreciating the way his crisp hairs felt under my lips. He was slim and sleek and masculine, with hard muscles stretching lightly tanned skin. He had a freckle on his left hip, a small scar on his right. They made a perfect kissing path.

"I love the way you taste," I whispered. "The feel of your skin. I like the way your muscles move when we're making love." I wanted to say fucking. I would. Later. And I knew it would turn him on. He liked to listen to me talk while he moved inside of me. I could feel his dick jerk and twitch when I told him how good he made me feel.

"Fuck…Bella…" His voice was raspy and growly and very masculine and I felt myself getting wetter.

I wanted to laugh at myself. I had been so worried that I'd never desire another man that I hadn't even considered that it would just take the right man to waken that part of me. Edward had not only awakened her, he had dragged her out of bed and made her run two miles. And now she was ready to go.

I finally took him into my mouth and he arched up against me, his hands going to my hair. He gave it a light tug, just enough to feel good without being too rough. He seemed to know just what I wanted sometimes. And then he was guiding my head and thrusting up into my mouth just enough and I moaned, which made him shiver and his balls tighten. I gave them a soft caress and increased the suction of my mouth.

He was grunting, his movements more erratic, his hips giving that small swivel that made me crazy when he did while he was inside of me. I knew he could dance too, and it really was true what they said about men who could dance.

Then he was hauling me up the length of his body and setting me down so I was straddling his hips. With one adjustment of our bodies, he was buried balls deep inside of me and both of us gave a little yell of approval. Damn, Edward could be loud. Maybe we should soundproof our bedroom.

The next thrust of his hips made all coherent thought fly away. I rested my hands on his chest to give myself leverage. "Bella…you look so good…fucking me…" he whispered, his eyes darting from my face to my breasts and down to where our bodies were joined.

I wanted to say something sexy and naughty but then he did the hip swivel thing and I could barely breathe, much less talk. Later, later I would dazzle him with my sexy repartee. If I was alive.

He thrust up hard, giving a loud grunt as his hands settled on my hips to steady me for him. "Can't get…enough…" he muttered almost to himself, and then the tip of his tongue peeked out from between those perfect lips.

Fuck.

I exploded around him and he kept thrusting. He wasn't there yet, but he was working hard. His eyes flickered up to mine and his expression was tight and needy. Then those green eyes went down to my breasts and I knew he was following their movement. He wanted them in his mouth. When my orgasm eased, I leaned down, putting my nipples within reach of his mouth.

He groaned his appreciation as he closed over one, and then the other. Back and forth. Licking, tormenting. His movements sped up, his hands holding me in place while his mouth teased my breasts. Then he pulled a nipple in sharply, his teeth locking down gently with just enough pressure. I could feel him getting ready to come, to explode.

He slid his hand from my hip to my clit and gave it just a little caress, enough to send me off again, easier this time, an echo of earlier. I felt him pulse inside of me as his mouth pulled and sucked. I collapsed against him and his mouth was pulled away from my breast. He gave a little whimper of disapproval. I was too spent to care. I just promised myself that I would make it up to him later.

I had enough strength to throw myself over his chest.

This, this was what I had feared I would never have again. This deep connection that just enhanced the physical one. I wanted him. I would always want him. And he wanted me. I kissed the heaving chest beneath me.

My inner Cosmo girl gave me a wink of approval.

Yeah, we still had it.


	32. Ch 32: The Way Things are Supposed to Be

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: I've been neck deep in the "Anatomy Project from Hell." Bigger might only be updated twice this week, depending on how sick I get of my project. As it stands now, I'm going to be pretty damned sick of it. Anyway, here's a little peek at a phone call Emmett makes after his mother and Edward confess that they're "talking marriage."**_

**#32 The Way Things are Supposed to Be**

Emmett waited impatiently while the phone rang. He knew his brothers wouldn't bother him because if he was in his room with the door closed and the phone in his hand, they knew better. And he wanted privacy for this conversation.

For once, it wasn't Rose that he wanted to talk to. He did, but later. First he had some serious business to attend to and there was only one person who could help.

At last, there came a voice on the other end. "Hello?" It was a woman's voice and Emmett sighed. "Hey, Grandma," he said politely. "How are you?" He knew he couldn't rush his grandmother off the phone, as much as he wanted to get down to business.

"I'm good, Emmett," Grandma said. "How are you and your brothers?"

"We're fine, Grandma," Emmett replied. "How are you and Grandpa?"

"We're good, darling," she said. "And how's your mother?"

"She's great, Grandma," Em said. _Yeah, if you count being pawed by Edward as being great,_ he thought sourly.

His grandmother must have sensed that he was distracted because she gave a little laugh. "Do you want to talk to your grandfather?" she offered gently.

Emmett breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, if that's all right."

"Of course, Em, let me get him for you." There was a short silence while she went hunting for Charlie. "Hold on, Em. He's in the garage messing with his fishing tackle." Then Emmett heard her muttering. "It's still raining buckets and _he _wants to go fishing…."

Emmett couldn't help but smile at his grandmother's grumbling.

Then a deep voice came over the phone. "Hey, Em," Grandpa said. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," Emmett answered automatically. Then he sighed.

"Uh oh," Charlie said. "What's wrong?"

Emmett took a deep breath. "Well…it's happened," he announced.

"What happened?"

"Mom and Edward…they're talking _marriage_," Em explained briefly, though he made marriage sound like a dirty word.

"They _said_ that?" Charlie asked.

"Plain as day," Emmett replied. "It was bad enough when Edward told Jake he was keeping him. Now this…" Emmett's tone was disgruntled. He was surprised to hear his grandfather give a little bark of laughter.

"Well, Em," Grandpa soothed. "We all knew it was coming. That man's crazy about your mother and there are worse things in the world."

Emmett gaped at the phone. No. It wasn't supposed to go like that. Grandpa was supposed to talk about what a bad idea all of this was, how stupid it was…

"Em?" Charlie's voice was gentle.

"Yeah?"

"You know I'm on your side right, kid?"

Emmett sighed. "I guess so."

Charlie heaved a sigh of his own. "But I'm on your mom's side too. She's my baby girl, even if she does have the four of you."

"I know," Em mumbled.

"Does he make her happy?" Charlie asked and Emmett rolled his eyes. What was it with that question? Yes, he made her happy. There! Was everyone satisfied? But just because he made her happy didn't mean that Emmett James had to_ like_ it. At all.

"I guess," Emmett muttered.

"Well then, that should mean something," Charlie reminded him.

"It does, Grandpa," Em said. "But…what does it mean for us?"

"For you boys?"

"Yeah, I mean…aren't we enough for her?"

"Have you asked your mom that?" Charlie said softly.

"No," Emmett admitted. "I don't want her to feel bad."

"She wouldn't feel bad, at least not in the way you're thinking, Emmett." Charlie's voice sounded so sure that Emmett wondered if he was looking at all of this the wrong way. It was just so confusing. "She can't talk to you about what's bothering you if she doesn't know it's bothering you, now can she?"

"No." Emmett was sick and tired of people using logic on him when the situation was anything but reasonable.

"Em?"

"Yes?"

"Your mom misses your dad something fierce," Charlie said. "And she always will. But she's a young woman with – God willing – a lot of years in front of her. It's not right for a good woman like your mother to be alone unless she wants to be."

"But why him?"

"He's a good guy, Em. You know he is. If you'd climb off your stubborn for a minute you'd see that."

"So?"

There was a deep breath from Charles Swan. "You're old enough to know better, Emmett James. You want the God's honest truth?"

Not really, Emmett thought, but he had a feeling he was going to get it anyway. His grandfather took his silence as tacit agreement.

"Your mom loves you boys…with all her heart. And if she'd never met this Edward, she'd still have had a happy life raising you boys. It would have been enough for her. She wouldn't have gone looking for a man. Your mom has always been comfortable in her own skin, and Lord knows she's one of the strongest people I've ever met." There was a chuckle from Charlie. "And one of the most stubborn, too." Emmett had to agree with that. "But Edward came into her life anyway." Emmett didn't want to be reminded of how or why that had happened so he remained silent. "And even though she didn't go looking for it, what she's found with him has made her happy, too. It doesn't take away one bit of what she felt for your father. She told me that straight out, so if you're thinking she didn't love your dad as much…or that what she feels for this Edward fellow makes what she shared with Mac anything less, then you're wrong."

"She said that?" Emmett asked. Hearing his grandfather's words made Emmett realize that he had touched on one of Emmett's fears. He had worried that his mother hadn't loved his father as much as she thought she had. What if she decided that what she felt for Edward was better? Stronger? Emmett didn't think he could stand that. His parents' love for each other had been the foundation of his whole life. Emmett James knew that the sun rose and set, and he knew that his parents had loved each other. It was an elemental truth.

But now there was Edward. And Mom said she loved him too. Could someone really love two people…equally?

"Emmett?"

"Yeah, Grandpa?"

"Do you think your mom loves any one of you boys less or more than she loves the others?" Emmett had never thought of it that way. Of course she loved them all equally. "When Seth was born, she didn't love you any less. The same when Sam and Jake arrived. She just had more love to give then. She didn't have to take away from one of you to give some to your brothers. Your mom still loves your father. She always will." Charlie's voice was gentle. "Sometimes I think it's the people who have really known true love that can open themselves up to loving again after they've lost their love." Charlie's voice grew thick and Emmett was reminded of how his father's death had hurt his grandfather too. They had all been hurting for a long time. "Your mom believes in love, Em, because she's felt it, she's had it and she knows it's out there. So it's_ because_ she loved your dad so much that she still has faith. She hasn't been betrayed, so she can give her trust again because your father earned it and kept it sacred. She was hurt when Mac died, and that's a pain she'll always carry, son. Just like you will. But that doesn't mean she can't be happy again. Just like it doesn't mean that one day you won't be able to really be happy again. You're starting to heal, Emmett and that's just the way things are supposed to be. If we hurt so bad forever then the world would be a terrible place."

"Yeah," Emmett whispered.

"Your mom believes that there are good men out there, Em, because that's been her experience. Your father was a good man. So are your uncles. You're shaping up to be a fine man yourself, Emmett. And I think Edward is a good man, too." Emmett was silent. "Just remember, Em, he's going to make mistakes. Your father made them, I've made them; your mom's gonna screw up too. We're human, so it's just gonna happen. You've got to forgive and move on…like you would do for your mother or me…or your dad."

Emmett thought about that for a moment. "Okay…I'll try."

Charlie laughed. "You know what Jake would tell you about Master Yoda has to say about trying…" he reminded him.

Emmett laughed too. "Yeah, yeah, do or do not. There is no try."

Charlie's voice was tender when he spoke again. "So give him a chance, Emmett. Just let him love your mom and let her love him. He loves you boys too, you know. You don't want to admit it, but you're fair enough to realize it. So…you know…don't be too hard on him."

"I'll…" Emmett sighed. "I will, Grandpa….and thanks."

"I'm proud of you son, and we all love you, so don't forget that."

"I won't," Emmett promised.

He hung up the phone, feeling better about things. But there was no way in hell he was going to tell_ Seth_ that, no way at all.

He wanted his mom to be happy, and if it was Edward that did that, well… Emmett guessed he could learn to live with that.


	33. Chapter 33: Good Dogs

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: This is a silly little piece inspired when I was thinking about a book by Dean Koontz called **__**Dragon Tears**__**. It came to me about three in the morning (chronic insomnia for the win!) If you're familiar with that book, then you probably recognize this little bit of fluff. This is just for fun and written quickly while I gnashed my teeth over… Well, the project from hell. Just for kicks and giggles, this one is. And because I've got an Emily of my own, who hogs the bed and dreams of chasing bunnies.**_

**#33 Good Dogs**

She is curled up on the boy's bed – _her_ boy. It is raining outside, but she is warm and dry. Her belly is full, and she is having the good dream, the chasing bunny dream. Run, bunny, run. Chase, chase. Her paws twitch on the bed and a little whine erupts from her throat. The boy shifts and makes a sound and Emily is dragged from her dream. With wise brown eyes she studies the boy.

He is fine, not even awake. Perhaps her chasing bunny dream woke him up. He would like the chasing bunny dream. His hand curls into her fur and she licks it. Good boy, good Sam. _Her _boy, _her_ Sam.

Now she is Emily, a good dog.

Good dogs have full bellies and get petted and they curl up on beds and have the chasing bunny dream. Bad dogs…they sleep under a tree with a chain around their neck and they look into the house with the lights on and dream of the food and the petting that is in there.

Then humans forget the chain and bad dogs run away. There is a big hungry and a big lonely waiting, but the dog keeps walking. Then it rains and there is a man and a boy and suddenly there is no more hungry and no more lonely.

And the bad dog is a good dog.

Emily is a good dog.

From somewhere else in the house, she hears a sound and her head cocks as she listens, her ears up. Is it something that will hurt her people? She listens. No, it is safe. Still…she worries. She hops off the bed and trots to the door and paws at it. The boy used to close it all the way but Emily woke him up one night, scratching and whining at it.

How can she guard all of her people if she is locked in a room?

The boy understood and now she can nudge the door open. Time to make the rounds, to make sure all of the smells that are supposed to be there are there – and no extras. No bad man smells.

Boys, boys…yes, they are good. Snoring. She listens and gives one of them a lick on his foot. He twitches. Good boy, Emily's good boy. They are all her boys. Good boys, good dog.

Then to the woman's room. Emily nudges that door open too. She is smart. She has figured that out. She has to protect her people. Ah, this time the man is there – the man who talked to her on the street in the rain and the cold. He talked to her and then there was warm and dry and full bellies. The man is good. Emily sniffs the air. The mating smell lingers, not sharp or recent. She chuffs. The mating smell is good, it is a happy smell.

The man's hand is hanging off the side of the bed. Emily licks. Good man. Warm and dry comes from the man. Full belly. No more chasing rabbits, except in dreams. No fear from the rabbits, just fun, just chasing.

She licks his hand.

He opens one eye and bares his teeth just a little. It is the happy face that humans sometimes make at her. His teeth are telling her he's happy. Humans are odd, but this one is nice. He is sleepy; she can smell the sleepy smell on him. When he is here, she smells happy on him. He is never rough with her. He is good to her boys too. He does not yell in a big, scary voice. His hands do not hit. They are gentle, good hands. She smells the nice on him. He is good. He can be trusted.

She licks again. "Good dog," he whispers and the eyes fall shut.

She is a good dog. Yes, Emily is a good dog.

The bad dog was named Damned Dog, but Emily…she is good.

She wanders down the stairs and listens at the front door. No one knocking, no one breathing out there. The humans are safe. Another check at the back door – have to pee, that is where we go when we have to pee, no mess on the floor because that is a bad thing – and Emily knows the family is safe.

Before the tree, before the chain, she lived in a house with other people once. She wasn't Damned Dog there. The little girl called her "Sasha." But one day the little girl was gone and no one called her Sasha anymore. There was a small cage and the bars on the bottom of it hurt her feet. She could smell the fear on the other dogs. It was a bad place, but the chain and the tree were even worse.

Emily is glad to be Emily.

The kitchen is next and Emily sits on the floor and listens to all of the sounds that mean food and full bellies. The boy gets her food from inside there, and the food fills her bowl. No more hurting belly, empty and gnawing. When the boys sit in those high up chairs, they will have food in their hands when they pet her. Hot dogs. They are her favorite, juicy and sometimes too hot but she eats them anyway. So good. Sometimes green beans, not so good but she eats them. One swallow and they are gone and that makes the boys laugh. And the little trees, green and crisp. Yuck. She will not eat those. She will lick off the cheese if there is cheese. Cheese is good, almost as good as hot dogs.

The boys feed her when their mother isn't looking. The mother bares her teeth too. Good dog, she says and her touch is soft and does not hurt. Sometimes Emily forgets that she is a good now and flinches away from the humans' touch. But they remind her, calling her a good Emily. And she remembers she isn't Damned Dog anymore – she is Emily and these are her people.

There is movement on the stairs. Not the boys. The boys make big noises. Tromp, tromp, tromp. They used to scare her with their noises. But now she knows the noises do not mean hitting, they just mean boys.

She likes the boys.

Then there is the man and he is rubbing at his fur. He still smells like sleep. He looks surprised to see her and he grunts. "Emily, what? You couldn't sleep either?" She wags her tail. Maybe he will go to the cold box and get something good for good dogs to eat.

The man opens the cold box. Yes! Her tail wags harder and she whines. Good dogs can whine, just a little.

He bends down and he is looking through the cold box that has such good things to eat. He pulls something out. It smells like meat. Not as good as bunny, but close. Not as good as hot dogs, but good.

She whines again and he turns to her. "Want some?" he asks, and holds out his hand.

She takes the lunch meat daintily. Good dogs are _easy_, they do not bite or nip or growl. Good dogs get treats in the middle of the night.

The man wanders over to the living room and sits on the couch. He pats the space beside him and Emily knows that means she can sit down beside him. She licks his hand again – there is some taste of meat there. Good. He sighs and leans back and she puts her head in his lap. He pets her. Food and pets and the chasing bunny dream – it has been a good night.

Emily closes her eyes as the man begins to snore. She will watch over him. He made the cold and lonely and hungry go away. He made her a good dog.

The good dog sleeps.


	34. Chapter 34: Strange Lullabies

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#34 Strange Lullabies**

Edward had fallen asleep. He snored a little. I liked it. Sometimes, especially during the past two years, the quiet of the nights had pressed in on me, an oppressive weight that reminded me I was alone. I had told myself that I had to get used to it, because that part of my life was over.

Then he'd come into my life and things had changed. I smiled as he gave a little snort and rolled over, his arm reaching out across the bed. Reaching for_ me_.

That realization still had the power to stun me. Edward Cullen was in love…with me. I was nothing special. I was just a widow with four rambunctious boys who could try the patience of a saint. I was stubborn and tended to keep my feelings to myself much of the time. I wasn't a "girly girl." I preferred jeans and flip-flops to pencil skirts and stilettos. Besides, I'd never catch up with the boys in stilettos, and mobility was always a necessity with them around.

Edward didn't seem to mind that, however. He actually seemed to prefer my low-maintenance mind set. His one little quirk, for my feet of all things, was an easy one to indulge. So he liked to see my toenails painted. I could live with that.

Sleeping, he looked younger than he was. He had aged well, _very_ well, but in sleep, I could see the handsome kid he had been. He was…beautiful. I probably shouldn't tell him that; he'd insist that men weren't beautiful. But _he_ was. Of course, time and experience had given him a manly edge. He was masculine in his beauty, and the slight lines at the corners of his eyes just enhanced his appearance. Boys could be pretty, but this man was absolutely beautiful.

It wasn't just his outside, though that was enough to get me breathing fast. No, what really drew me to him was his loving and generous heart. I loved him for the way he loved my boys, for the unhesitating way he had of wading into the confusing currents and eddies of family life. He had done remarkably well. It couldn't be easy to take us all in.

But he had not only loved my boys, but he had gotten to know them – not as a group, but as individuals. I wasn't sure I could express to him how much that meant to me, but I hoped he knew. It was something their father would have done, something Mac _had_ done. He had recognized each of our sons as the individuals they were. Yes, they were our "boys" but they were also Emmett and Seth and Sam and Jake.

Edward saw them like that too.

Then he stirred again, his eyes fluttering open and I was caught by his intent green gaze. I loved his eyes. There was just enough light to make out their color. They were darker than emeralds when he was making love to me, a deep mossy green when he was laughing, bright like a tropical ocean when he was just being Edward. "Hey, beautiful," he murmured, reaching for me. His long fingers caressed my cheek. This was even better than the sound of his soft snores filling up the silence.

I snuggled up next to him and sighed. He was so warm and solid. Easily, he molded his lean body against mine. I held him close, burying my face in his chest to inhale his clean, masculine scent.

"What's wrong?" he whispered.

I shook my head. "Nothing," I answered honestly. "Nothing at all. I was just watching you sleep."

"Unisom works wonders I hear," he teased quietly. "No need to resort to watching me sleep."

I bit down gently on his nipple in retaliation and he hissed before cradling my head closer. "Hmmmm…." He moaned. "Do that again."

I licked instead, but he didn't seem to mind. Then I cuddled close again. "You're very cute when you sleep, you know."

He grunted and kissed the top of my head. "I'll take your word for it," he muttered. He wrapped his arms around me more securely. "I sure do like being able to hold you all night," he whispered.

I liked it too. I liked the warmth and scent of him in my bed. It went beyond sex, it was something more. It was knowing I wasn't alone any more. It was knowing that I'd found a man worthy of raising Mac's sons. It was knowing that Edward loved me as truly and deeply and faithfully as Mac had. I couldn't settle for anything less, but I didn't have to. Because Edward was unique and special and perfect for me. He was, surprisingly, my other half. Beyond loving the boys, he loved me in his own unique way, as I loved him. We were right together. He was as much my destiny as my children had been. We had been meant for each other. The road had been long and twisted and hard, but it had been true.

"I like you holding me all night," I told him. Then I laughed. "Even though you snore."

"Do not!" he protested.

I nodded my head. "You do," I assured him. "But it's really cute."

He grunted again. "Yeah, but will you still think it's cute in twenty years?"

"I'm sure I will," I said.

"You'd better, 'cuz you're stuck with me," he murmured as he ran his nose up the line of my throat. The man really liked to sniff me, I'd noticed. It was just another endearing quirk. Of course, I had a few quirks of my own.

"I think you're the one who's stuck," I said, only half joking.

He pulled away and frowned at me. "Enough of that shit," he said.

"What?"

Edward heaved a sigh and tilted my chin up, his green eyes boring into mine. They were somewhere between emerald and the sea, and that meant he was annoyed. "Stop it with that, _please_." He kissed me. "It really bothers me when you do that." Another kiss. "I love you, and I feel absolutely _blessed_ to have you and those boys in my life." A kiss, a little lick at my earlobe, a nibble. "You've made me happy, Bella, so incredibly happy." He shifted, pulling me almost on top of him. "So please….don't talk like that." I leaned up to gaze into his eyes. They had gotten darker yet again and I knew what that meant.

"Okay, I'll try," I whispered.

His smile was blinding. I rested my head on his chest, letting the sound of his heart beat fill my mind, allowing his scent to fill my senses. I was content to lie there, taking in the whole of him. He was quiet, his hands running down my hair to my back. His touch was soothing and gentle.

"I never thought I'd have this again," I confessed suddenly, not daring to look at him yet.

"Have what, baby?" His hands kept moving, tenderly stroking me.

"This…feeling like I'm not alone…that whatever life throws at me, I won't have to face it alone…" It was often difficult for me to express my feelings. Sometimes the words got locked up inside of me and I had to struggle to find a way to set them free. But here, in the safety of our bed, I could do it. He had to know how much I loved him, and how much his love had transformed me. "You're like a miracle, and you don't even know it."

I looked up and his smile was tender. "I feel the same way, you know," he whispered. "You keep thinking that I rescued you from being alone, but what you fail to realize is that you rescued me right back." He lifted his head and placed a quick kiss on the tip of my nose. "And that's what makes us work. We were both lonely, but neither one of us expected that to change. Then it did, and I say we should just enjoy the miracle…which is _us_, by the way."

I grinned at him. "You're pretty damned smart, you know."

He shrugged and I felt the play of his hard muscles under me. It was a solid, reassuring feeling. "I was smart enough to chase after you," he observed. "My mama didn't raise no fool." He wriggled his eyebrows at me and I giggled. He was such a goof at times, but that was just another reason to love him.

"Come here," I whispered.

"I_ am_ here," he replied, but his hands pushed me down on top of him and his hips arched up toward me. God I loved that feeling, the sensation of all that warm skin against me, his body so different from mine – the firm muscles, the sprinkling of hair on his chest, the crisp feel of the hairs on his legs rubbing against mine. It was all perfect and it was mine. _He_ was mine.

And I was his.

I sat up and imitated his patented hip swivel thing. He groaned and his hands jerked to my hips. "You keep that up and we'll never leave this bed," he rasped. Oh, I loved that raspy, husky voice.

"That's the point," I told him, quirking one brow.

"Ah…sex kitten is back," he whispered with a grin.

I reached for his hands and adjusted my position so that he slid into me. We both hissed at the sensation. I moved lazily over him, taking my time working us both to our peaks. He was so beautiful underneath me, his cheekbones sharp in the dim light from the streetlights outside, his eyes glittering, his tongue slipping out from between his perfect lips. His breaths got quicker and his movements became more erratic. He added the hip swivel and I knew it wouldn't take me long.

"Bella," Edward whispered. "God, baby…."

"Are you close?" I asked.

He nodded fervently, closing his eyes and arching up, rotating his hips as he arced. "Fuck," I muttered.

"That's it, baby," he said. "Give it to me…"

I couldn't do anything more than close my eyes too and give into it. What had started off quiet and slow suddenly exploded into…wow. I shuddered, feeling him coming apart beneath me. I finally collapsed onto him, savoring the feel of his damp flesh and quivering muscles.

I closed my eyes. I had been so afraid that I'd never feel this way again, feel the languid satisfaction of making love to a man I loved. I knew that happiness was never guaranteed, never something to take for granted. Somehow that knowledge made what we shared even sweeter, because I knew we had found it against the odds.

"I love you, Edward Cullen," I whispered.

I felt his lips at my temple. And then he sniffed. My perverted man, God how I loved him. "So I see," he replied dryly. Then he laughed and I felt the rumble of it in his chest. "I love you too, Bella Swan James."

I closed my eyes and began drifting toward sleep. Edward beat me there, his soft little snores becoming a sort of strange lullaby.


	35. Chapter 35: Something Wonderful

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: Just a short little peek into Bella's thoughts as they move in together.**_

**#35 Something Wonderful**

I had expected to feel guilty when I stretched the tape across the box that held Mac's flag…his picture. Instead, there was sorrow and a touch of…peace. I put Mac's soul to rest when I closed that box. That didn't mean I wouldn't love him until the day I died, but I turned away from the past with that simple action, and I faced forward…toward the future.

My future with Edward.

I stood there for a moment and looked at the boxes that contained our lives. How many times had I done this? How many times had I packed away all of the things that were the sum of our existence? I was used to this, and I was good at it. I was quick and efficient, and until the move here to Fayetteville, I had always felt a keen sense of anticipation as I considered where we'd live next.

I found adventure in the constant change. I had grown up with an ever-changing cast of friends and faces. In my married life, my restless spirit had been given free rein. I had noticed that military brats either tended to put down deep, fast roots as adults, or they continued in their gypsy ways, wandering from place to place, calling all of them home.

I had wandered. I had found joy in my journeys. But now I was ready to put down those roots I had once dismissed as unnecessary.

I glanced at Edward. He had been so hesitant to say he didn't want Mac's flag displayed in his – in _our_ – living room. He was always so considerate, so sweetly tolerant of the memory of the man who came before him. For the boys' sakes, I was grateful.

Now, however, Edward and I were going to find our own way. We were going to build a life that was Edward and Bella – not Mac and Bella and Edward. I couldn't give Edward anything less. I wouldn't.

These boxes represented one life. Waiting in a new house was another life. The old life had been sweet, mixed with pain because that's how life was. The new one would be sweet too, and there would be sorrow waiting down the road for us. It was inevitable. But whatever waited for us, we would face it together.

I took Edward's hand and felt his long fingers curl around mine possessively. I liked the feeling, very much.

Then, before it seemed possible, the last box had been put in the Suburbans and we were on our way.

The boys spilled out of the trucks and I could hear only their excited whoops and Emily's enthusiastic barking. We were home.

As we stepped inside the door, I took a deep breath and realized that the strange, unfamiliar feeling inside of me was happiness. This was what it felt like to be well and truly happy. I could vaguely remember the feeling from another life.

But this was new and special because of Edward.

I listened to the boys thunder up the stairs with Emily in the lead. It had been almost three years since Mac had died. Three years since I thought there would be nothing but the boys and a sort of half-life ahead of me.

I had never once suspected that something wonderful still waited for me. _Someone _wonderful.

We were in the kitchen then and I watched the play of the muscles in his back as he put away the last of the food. I could see his profile from where I stood, the firm line of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, the fine lines at the side of his eye – luminous, peaceful green at the moment. A little smile tugged at those perfect lips.

He was as happy as I was.

I just stood there for a while, enjoying the show. His movements were quick, efficient, graceful…he could make even the most mundane chores look like a dance of sorts. While I no longer tripped over my own feet, I knew that I would never have the easy grace that Edward had. It was very sexy to see a man move so fluidly. It brought to mind his moves in a bedroom, his lean, lithe body moving under mine, or over mine…

I had to stop that line of thought or I'd be dragging him upstairs to have my wicked way with him. Later, however, all bets were off. I grinned at the thought.

I knew I should be helping him, but I loved watching him too much to stop. He was just so unexpected that sometimes I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. It was as if a guardian angel had looked down and decided that I deserved a second chance and given it to me.

I almost laughed then, because in the years since Mac's death I had, more than once, imagined him as a foul-mouthed, hulking, off-key singing angel watching over us all.

Then Edward turned. "What?" he asked, his eyes bright, lips quirked.

"Nothing," I answered. "Just…you." I moved toward him and wrapped my arms around his lean waist and leaned against his chest. The steady, reassuring thump-thump of his heart filled me up. "I love you," I whispered.

"Oh Bella," he murmured, his hands skimming over my hair to settled at my hips. "You have no idea how much I love you too."

I looked up at him and let everything I felt for him show. "I think I do, and that's what makes me love you so much."

He laughed softly and kissed the tip of my nose. He looked around. "So…what do you think of our new home?"

I surveyed our tiny kingdom and listened to the ruckus that the heirs-apparent were making upstairs. "I think we're both pretty damned lucky."

Edward snorted and shook his head. "Luck hasn't got anything to do with, baby. This is fate, that's what this is."

"Luck," I whispered. "Fate…doesn't matter…."

His lips found mine. Luck or fate?

Maybe both. Maybe neither.

Still didn't matter.


	36. Chapter 36: An Outsider Looking In

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: Because I know that I could never, EVER really relate to the experiences of someone who has gone to war, I haven't even tried to express those feelings here. Bella's reflections are those of an outsider because honestly, I don't think anyone who hasn't actually **__**been there, done that**__** can appreciate those experiences. I can, however, relate to the thoughts of someone who has loved someone who has gone to war. My grandfather, who ended up fighting in three wars (WWII, Korea, and Vietnam) only spoke of his experiences in the most superficial way. My father, who did three tours in Vietnam, was the same way. We got the funny stories, the amusing anecdotes, the jokes and lighthearted observations. The most horrific experiences were not for public consumption, mostly because we could never understand them. So my references are deliberately vague, because while I might be able to honor their sacrifices, I cannot really understand them.**_

**#36 An Outsider Looking In**

I looked in the mirror one last time, checking my hair. Acceptable and as good as it would get. Make-up? A little more than usual but not too much. Dress? Maybe a little bit low cut, but Edward would appreciate the view. It wasn't slutty, just a bit daring. It would do. I wasn't ready to go downstairs. He'd be waiting for me anxiously, but I needed a moment.

My hands were shaking as I tugged at the neckline of the dress one more time. Okay, maybe it was more than a little daring. I rummaged in the drawer and found the double-sided tape that Alice insisted every woman should keep around "just in case." Maybe she was psychic or something, but I'd certainly put it to good use today. After applying the tape to the outside of my bra, I felt more secure. There was no need to flash the girls, not with an audience anyway.

Later, I thought. I'd flash later. For Edward. We'd ring in the civilian life...again.

This would probably be the last time I'd see him in his dress blues. And the first. Odd… I'd seen him in his ACUs dozens and dozens of times. But never in his dress uniform. I wasn't embarrassed to admit that my girl parts were getting a little tingly at the thought. Yeah, there really _was_ something about a man in uniform. My mother and I had shared quite a few naughty giggles over it, especially once I was older and married.

And let's face it, living on a base afforded a woman a lot of opportunity to enjoy the scenery. As my mother said, "You can look at the menu all you want. You just don't have to order." Even now my mother looked. I kept her little secret. "I'm married and in love," she'd told me once. "I'm not dead."

That brought a smile to my face. It was so typical of my mother. She was still a free spirit, despite her age and her responsibilities as my father's wife. She'd always been the perfect officer's wife, and now she served as the police-chief's wife with grace and warmth. I thought she was probably entitled to enjoying the scenery.

It was time. I glanced at my watch again.

I stepped down the stairs carefully. I could navigate in heels, but I didn't like to tempt fate. Deliberately, I kept my eyes on my feet. I saw the bright crimson nail polish just peeking out of the peep toe shoes. That was for Edward too. God the man and his thing for toes! It was adorable and perverted, much like Edward.

Then I got to the last step and looked up. I felt my breath lock in my throat.

He shifted nervously, tugging at his collar. Oh. My. God.

He was beautiful. He was… I couldn't even think of the right words. I stepped up to him and adjusted his tie, mostly to give myself an excuse to touch him. He felt warm and solid beneath the layers of cloth. I smiled up at him. "Hello, soldier," I teased and the light burst into his green eyes.

"Hey," he replied. The raspy, husky voice was back. Oh my. Yes, the girly parts definitely liked that.

I had so many things I wanted to say, but they were locked up tight inside of me. So I settled for kissing his lips and resting my head briefly on his chest, letting my fingers lightly run over the medals on his chest. I tried to still the little frisson of fear that ran through me as I thought about what those medals represented. He had risked his life. He had been in danger.

But that was over. He was here. He was safe. He was mine.

I was smiling when I looked up at him. "Come on, handsome, let's get you retired and roasted and then put to bed." He grinned at me, looking both naughty and innocent at the same time. That seemed to be an Edward Cullen specialty.

Then I turned to see the boys all lined up. In suits no less. They'd wear those same suits to our wedding, unless they outgrew them in the next two months, which was always a possibility.

And my breath left me again.

When had they gotten so grown up? Emmett was Mac all over again. It hurt to look at him sometimes, but it gave me comfort too. I hadn't known Mac at this age, and there weren't many pictures of his childhood, but I knew that he would have looked just like this. I bit my lip. No tears, I reminded myself. No tears today. This was a happy day.

Then Seth, getting almost as tall as Emmett. Not as broad, built more leanly like my side of the family. He'd be long and lithe when it was all said and done. He tugged at his tie much like Edward had.

Sam, fidgeting and looking uncomfortable, pulling at his jacket sleeves and shifting his feet in his shiny new dress shoes.

Jake beamed up at me, clearly impressed with his new threads. "I look good, huh?"

I had to laugh and agree. Then we were on our way to the base. I glanced at Edward, surprised to see that he was starting to look nervous. He kept tugging at his collar.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

He twisted his neck as if he had a stiff muscle. "I dunno," he muttered. "I just don't like being the center of attention."

I stifled my laughter. Silly man, he was the center of attention wherever he went; his good looks and long, lean body ensured that. He didn't really have a clue how gorgeous he was, and in uniform…? Well, let's just say that I had a healthy appreciation for his appearance.

I had lived around men in uniform my whole life. Honestly, I felt more comfortable around uniforms than I did civilian clothes, but I could admit that seeing Edward in uniform was an experience quite unlike any other.

I wondered how he felt right now. A huge, important chapter in his life was ending. I knew Edward well enough to know that he had given his heart and soul to the Army. It wouldn't be an easy thing to leave behind. This was a night for reflection as well as renewal.

For the most part, Edward avoided talking about his experiences in the war. That seemed to be a common reaction. Even Mac, who hadn't seemed to let much burden him, had made light of some experiences and simply refused to talk about others. I understood that reaction.

Edward was a different man in so many ways. He was more open with his emotions, wearing his heart on his sleeve in many ways. Except when it came to his combat experiences. Those were kept locked away and tucked behind walls, a part of his life he didn't share.

I hadn't pushed Edward. He dealt with things in his own way. His scars told me part of the story. His silence told me another. I understood enough to comprehend that there was a part of his life that I could never really know. It could only be understood by those who had shared it, lived,_ survived_ it.

So in some ways, I was an outsider looking in. Tonight, he would say good-bye to a part of that. His memories would always be his, but tonight he would be giving up a part of what defined him. He would have new labels, new roles, new definitions, but that didn't take away what he had had in the military. He had been a soldier for the whole of his adult life, it defined him in a way that a mere job could never do.

I pushed aside those thoughts and pulled him in for a kiss. I could see the shadows edging closer in his eyes. Old hurts, old fears... Yes, tonight would be difficult in ways I could never understand.

He was mostly quiet on the trip to the base. The boys were similarly subdued, perhaps recognizing in that way that kids had, that something significant was happening. Like me, they had been raised in this life. They had a clue. They knew far more about loss and honor and service than most kids their age. They knew more than I wanted them to know, but that was to be expected.

They were Army brats, with all of the burdens and knowledge and responsibility that that entailed.

We arrived and Edward parked and then he paused for a moment, sitting still and silent. Then he looked at me and the shadows were deeper, darker. I could see him banish them with a shake of his head. Inside, there were people gathered, uniforms in abundance, and women like me who had dressed up to impress, or maybe to distract a man they loved.

This was, despite the festive air, serious business.

His Brigade Commander was there, with words that made it clear how much Edward was valued. This was a side of him that we rarely saw, the soldier instead of the man. There were speeches, and Edward's accomplishments were praised. I could see Emmett staring at Edward with a new respect. They knew about sacrifice; they had lost their father to the war, after all. But they were seeing Edward now not just a as a man who loved their mother, but as a soldier, as a warrior who had gone to war. They were realizing that Edward had faced the same horrors that their father had faced; had made many of the same sacrifices and choices. He was a _soldier_, and for them, that meant something. It was a term of honor and respect, and they knew all about the sacrifices that such men made because they had lived with them, seen them up close.

As I listened, I learned more about this man I loved. I had already known that he was brave and selfless, but he was so much more than that. He was the epitome of the soldier he had been for so long; he had given all of himself to a cause that was bigger than himself, served a nation that was not always grateful or aware of what he gave up to do so.

And as relieved as I was that I wouldn't have to fear surviving another deployment, I was also proud of him. I was so achingly proud of what he stood for and what he accomplished that I felt like my heart was expanding inside of me, almost too large to stay contained.

He spoke then, saying more with his silences than he did with his actual words. So much loss and pain and fear, but of these things he spoke very little. Instead, he spoke of the men who had not made it home to their families, of men who had died so far away. In a way, he honored Mac with his words – Mac and every other man and woman who had not made it home. He paid homage to them, the price they had paid.

I wanted to cry, but I didn't. I put on my game face like every other spouse did. We had a job to do too. It was our role to be strong and silent when we wanted to be weak and cry out with our loneliness and fear. It was our job to hold the family together, to keep our eyes on the ultimate goal and give strength to those ones who faced the terrible realities of war.

I was good at my job, almost as good as Edward was at his. I wouldn't push at the walls he had built up. His walls made him strong in a way I would never fully appreciate. I heard his sorrow as he spoke the names of the men he had served with and who had been lost. I heard his pride as he spoke of their accomplishments while making light of his own.

And I heard his relief that he wouldn't be leaving me. As hard as it was to end this chapter of his life, he was looking forward, not back.

We were quiet on the way home, each of us wrapped up in our own thoughts and impressions of the ceremony.

The boys went to bed and Edward and I went to our bedroom. We closed and locked the door, making everything else fade away.

He touched me, his hand warm and hungry, his mouth wet and hot against me. He didn't speak, perhaps he couldn't. But his body called out to mine. He needed healing and solace and celebration.

He was both desperate and quiescent at my touch. He did my bidding even as his body begged for mine. Kisses began softly, moans became whispers in which I told him how much I loved him and needed him, how proud I was of him, and how happy he made me.

When he finally slid home, when his body became a part of mine, I felt something shift inside of me. Something in my heart, my soul...

I held him close and listened as his heart slowed its thundering rhythm.

I held him as his body relaxed and his muscles grew slack with sleep.

I held him as he dreamed of things that made him cry out and hold me so close that my bones ached as much as my heart did.

I held my own vigil that night. He slept while I kept watch over him. I was an outsider looking in, looking over – as strong in my own way as he was in his.


	37. Chapter 37: Awkward Conversations

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#37 Awkward Conversations**

Edward was at Masen's house, taking care of some mysterious male bonding stuff, and the boys had found me doing some last minute packing. It was hard to believe that the wedding was _tomorrow_. I shut the suitcase and sat down on my bed, patting the surface beside me, inviting all four of them to take a seat. We had often sat on my bed, talking things out – especially after Mac died.

The boys all looked at each other and then their eyes went to Emmett. The big brother who was so often their spokesperson. I tried to restrain my smile but I was only partially successful.

"What's up guys?" I asked, just to get the ball rolling.

"Uh, well, we've all been talking," Emmett said. Like I hadn't figured that out.

"Okay," I said.

"And we've all come to an agreement," Emmett continued after clearing his throat and tugging at the collar of his tee-shirt. Oh crap. This could be serious. I tried to tamp down the panic that threatened. If they had changed their minds about welcoming Edward into their lives -

"Geez, Em, just say it or Mom's gonna bust something over there," Seth pointed out with more accuracy than I might have wished.

"Oh," Em's eyes darted toward my face, which wasn't quite the poker face I would have liked. "No, it's not bad." He smiled. "At least we don't think so."

I nodded, unable to speak. The panic was fluttering away, leaving curiosity. Something had changed for them. But what?

"We all agree that it feels awkward to keep calling Edward uh...Edward." His ears turned red.

"You know he's fine with whatever you choose to call him," I assured the boys. Edward had told me straight out that he wasn't going to push the boys to call him anything in particular. We had had that discussion just a week ago when we had discussed yet again maybe having another baby.

"Yeah, we know," Emmett said. "And we appreciate that, but..." He shrugged. "It's just starting to feel...silly."

"Okay," I said. "What did you all have in mind?"

Jake piped up. "We wanna call him Pops." He grinned at me, his dark eyes gleaming. I had a feeling that it was Jake who had started this process. Of all the boys, it was Jake who had gotten closest to Edward the fastest. I supposed that made sense, especially since his memories of Mac were the vaguest. Jake hungered for a father, and Edward had filled the bill in every way.

"Pops?" I asked. Actually, this was something I hadn't anticipated. I had thought that perhaps Jake would want to call him Dad and the other boys wouldn't feel comfortable with that. They had a Dad, and I didn't want to take that away from them. Edward, bless him, didn't either. He had always been remarkably tolerant of Mac's presence in our lives – even now, three years after his death. The simple fact was that the boys would never forget him and I didn't want them to. But that didn't stop me from wanting them to give Edward a special place in their lives. Edward wanted that too, but had been patient and willing to wait for the boys to feel comfortable with him. They had come to see him for the very special man he was. Still, there had been something missing.

My boys, as they so often did, had solved the problem for themselves and come up with a compromise I wouldn't have thought of in a million years. It was simple and positively perfect, giving both of them men in their lives their own special place without taking away from the other.

"Wow," I breathed. "You guys are...you're just amazing."

Emmett's face was concerned. "Is that okay with you that we want to call him that?"

"It's more than okay," I admitted. "I think it's...well, I think it's absolutely brilliant."

Emmett paused and looked at each of his brothers. I could see the little nods they all gave him in return. "So do you think Edward will mind us calling him Pops? I mean, instead of Edward or...or Dad?"

This had all been the most difficult for Emmett. He had such strong, good memories of his father. I was grateful for that. Mac deserved that. But it also made it more difficult for Emmett to accept Edward's place in our lives. He had done a great job of it so far, but I had seen him struggle. I knew that it was only for me that he had even given Edward a chance. Luckily, Edward had made the most of that chance with all of the boys.

In time, Emmett would figure out that he was lucky to have Edward in his life. That would take time, as it did for most kids. I honestly hadn't appreciated my own parents until I was grown myself. I figured it would be much the same for Emmett and the rest of the boys.

I realized then that the boys were looking at me, waiting for a response. "Oh, no, I mean, no I don't think he'll mind at all. In fact," I added with a smile. "I think he'll be honored."

Emmett considered that for a moment and then nodded. "Okay, good, that's good."

The rest of the boys got up and left, but Emmett lingered behind. That meant he had something else to say, but I left him alone, knowing he'd come to it in his own way. He cleared his throat and I looked up from the toiletries I had been putting in their little case.

"Uh...I just wanted you to know that I...I know uh...I know Edward is good to you," Emmett said, clearly uncomfortable. "He's good _for_ you, I mean."

I smiled. "Yeah, yeah he is."

Emmett nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. I wondered if he realized that Edward did that when he was uncomfortable. "So I just wanted you to know that we're...we're happy that you're happy and all."

"Thank you," I said. "That means the world to me. I couldn't be happy if you guys weren't happy."

He nodded and hunched his shoulders, all Mac in that moment. "So yeah, we just wanted you to know that before tomorrow."

"I'm glad," I told him, going up to him and hugging him hard. He was so tall now, taller than most men. In six months, he'd be taller than Edward. I wouldn't be surprised if he was taller than Mac when it was all said and done.

He endured the hug, returning it briefly before letting his arms fall to his sides. He had reached that age where hugs with his mother were to be suffered through and never spoken of. Ever. Especially in front of his friends.

"What you're doing for Edward, that'll mean the world to him, you know." I wanted Emmett to know how important this was, both to me and to Edward. But I had to do it without making a huge production of it or he'd shut down.

"Yeah, well, it only makes sense," Emmett said dismissively. I let it slide.

"Well, it means a lot to me too."

Emmett's ears brightened again. Dear Lord, the blush_ I'd_ given him. It was all my fault, but useful as his mother. He gave me a quick, one-armed hug (the preferred method of teenage boys when forced to actually express affection for someone – especially their mother) and made his way toward the door again.

Once he was there, however, he stopped. Uh oh. The ears were neon red.

"Uh...I just wanted to say...I know that you two have talked about having a baby." Great, now we were both blushing.

"Yes." We had been honest with the boys, admitting that another sibling was a possibility if nature cooperated.

He looked at me and gave me a chagrined smile. "I know you guys talked about waiting, and I overheard you talking to Alyssa about your visit to the doctor." If his ears got any redder, they would burst into flames. "And I was gonna say that you shouldn't wait on our account." His shoulders hunched up so high that they were brushing his bright red ears. And the hands were in the pockets again, balled up. "So yeah...uh...just saying that the longer you wait, the older you'll be." Ouch. That one hurt. He swallowed hard. "And the more embarrassing it'll be." Okay, Emmett. I get the picture. We're old and the thought that we're having sex is mortifying. He laughed then. "So you know, you just should...well, whatever you want." He looked at the floor. "I mean, that's between the two of you...obviously."

I could hear everything he wasn't saying, so I nodded.

"Thanks," I said. "I'll keep that in mind."

He heaved a sigh of relief, obviously glad to be done with it. "Yeah, so we'll see you downstairs."

I heard the front door open and Jake's loud voice greeting Edward. I could have gone downstairs right then, but I took a moment. I sank down onto the bed and thought about Emmett's words.

He was right about one thing. The timing really wasn't going to be that much of an issue – six months sooner or later. What difference would it make? The boys already knew what we wanted. They also knew we didn't have much time.

So...what _were_ we waiting for?

And why?

I glanced at the pills that were stopping us from making that baby I dreamed about more often now. I almost tossed them away right then and there. But no...that wouldn't be fair. This was something we had to talk about, but soon. Yes, very soon.

Like right after the wedding.

I smiled. I knew exactly how and when to broach the subject. I had a feeling it wouldn't take much persuading. Edward was as excited as I was about the prospect of a baby.

I closed the suitcase, already thinking about what I'd say. Then the bedroom door opened and Edward was standing there. His hair was messy and standing on end. It was longer now, and so sexy, brushing at his collar in the back. I went to him and wrapped my arms around him and squeezed hard.

Then I leaned back to appreciate the lines of throat, the smattering of chest I could see where his shirt was opened at the neck. I never got tired of looking at him.

"Hey, beautiful," he murmured. "What are you doing?" He was nuzzling my neck then and it tickled.

"Nothing," I said. "Just...packing."

He wriggled his eyebrows, looking ridiculous and sexy all at the same time. "Anything I might be interested in?"

I smiled. "Maybe, we'll have to see."


	38. Chapter 38: Getting a Grip

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: Sort of the same timeframe as Chapter 71 of Bigger, but from Bella's POV. I think both Edward and Bella would probably put the "blame" for not conceiving on themselves, not each other. So what might she be thinking when things don't happen according to schedule?**_

**#38 Getting a Grip**

Well, fuck.

I had tried to ignore the cramps all day. I had told myself that the pain and bloating meant something else- something miraculous. Something to celebrate.

I had been lying to myself.

I got up off the toilet and pulled up my pants. I would be buying more tampons today and didn't that just suck? In a fit of optimism, I had let myself run low, figuring I wouldn't need them. I was Fertile Myrtle, as my mother used to tease.

Of course, that had been almost ten years ago. A lot changes in a decade. And who would know that better than me?

What was I thinking? Why had I been so convinced that I'd get pregnant on our first or second month of trying? Because I had conceived the boys with almost frightening ease? Because we wanted it so badly? Because I felt, somewhere deep inside of me, that we were...God help me, _entitled_?

What made us special?

Surely there were other women in the world who wanted to be pregnant as much as I did. Women who hadn't been given the incalculable gift of four healthy babies already. Women who wanted to give a man they loved the gift of seeing his features reproduced in a tiny face or a little bundle of mischief that bore his name. I wasn't unique. I wasn't special. I was selfish. I didn't deserve it any more than any other woman somewhere else in the world who might be fighting the tears right now the same as me for the same reason.

I felt as if my body had betrayed me.

I'd go downstairs in a few minutes and Edward would take one look at my face and he'd know. He'd know I had failed. Again. Not that he'd ever made me feel like a failure. But I knew...

Like a child, I wanted to throw myself on the ground and scream and cry and kick my feet. I wanted to wail that it wasn't fair.

_Get a clue, Bella. Life isn't fair. Surely you know that by now_.

I washed my face, trying to hide the slightly swollen eyes and the pink nose. A little foundation worked wonders, some more mascara, a bit of eyeliner to draw attention away from the redness in my eyes. I studied my reflection. It helped hide the signs, but not the age. I was _thirty-eight. _That was the age I thought of my_ mother_ as being. When had it happened to me?

I looked old. I_ felt_ old.

I was old and useless and dried up and empty and...barren.

That's how I felt.

Barren.

An ugly word. An even uglier reality.

I sighed and closed my eyes against the sight of the aging woman in the mirror. I wasn't ready to go downstairs and act like everything was just fine. I would feel Edward's anxious eyes on me. He'd see that our hopes had been for nothing. He would try to mask the disappointment, but I'd see it...feel it. I would know that the boys were picking up on the subtle tension in the house. They didn't know the details, of course, but they weren't stupid.

We hadn't told them that we were already trying, but they knew something was _off_. They were smart kids. Sometimes I thought Emmett had figured it out, but he never said anything. First, it would embarrass us both. Second, well...it would embarrass us both. A lot. Enough said.

I put the lid of the toilet down and sat there, trying to get my shit together. A part of me, the more rational and reasonable part, realized that I was being a bit melodramatic. Three months of dashed hopes for a pregnancy didn't necessarily reflect anything at all about my fertility. Even healthy younger women could take up to a year to conceive, as my doctor had reminded me more than once.

Sometimes I had the feeling that she was trying to prepare me for disappointment. If so, it hadn't worked. I didn't feel at all prepared for this.

I had been so sure that it was just a matter of going off the pill. It had never been a problem to conceive before. Jake had been a happy accident, an unexpected gift. One forgotten condom and there was my Jake.

Now, after three and a half solid months of unprotected sex there was – nothing. Just a period.

I hadn't realized how much Edward wanted this. I didn't think even _he_ had known. But I could see there in his eyes every month. The hope and anticipation that turned to disappointment in a moment. He tried to hide it from me, tried to pretend he wasn't worried. But I could read him easily enough.

I wanted a baby. But even more, I wanted a baby for _him_. I wanted to give him that because he had given us all so much. He had taken on a whole new life and never even blinked. Some men thought they were taking on a burden when they took a wife. Edward had taken on five of us. _Five_. All the fingers on one hand as Jake used to say. Loving five should earn him one little baby in return, right?

Edward had allowed himself not only to love me, but to love my boys.

_Our_ boys, as he called them all the time. Our boys.

I wanted to give him just one more. A little girl for him to spoil outrageously or a mischievous little boy in his image.

I sighed and got up again. I brushed my hair and checked my make-up, ignoring the dull ache in my empty belly. I blinked at the woman in the mirror.

"You need to get a grip," I told her.

She just stared back at me.

"It'll happen," I tried to reassure her. She didn't look convinced. I knew how she felt.

"And if it doesn't..." I swallowed hard. I couldn't finish that thought. She didn't want me to.

"Get a grip," she whispered back.

I tried.

I found myself falling back on the habits of a childhood. I made a deal with God. I wasn't sure He heard me, but I figured it couldn't hurt.

"Please God," I whispered. "He's given us so much...me and the boys. Let me give him this. This one small miracle. _Please_."

I didn't have anything to offer in return, but if good intentions counted...

"Amen," I added hurriedly and then opened the bathroom door, pasting a smile on my face.


	39. Chapter 39: Cool No Matter What

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: This takes place after Chapter 72 of Bigger, obviously. **_

**#39 Cool No Matter What**

"All I'm saying is that a boy would be better," Seth pointed out.

Jake shook his head. "Nope, I want a girl. A sister." He nodded at his brothers. "And I'm telling God that that's what I want – so you all can just suck it." For Jake that settled the matter.

Emmett snorted. "It's already been decided, short stuff."

"When did they decide?"

Emmett shook his head. "Never you mind when they decided."

"I know how babies are made," Jake reminded him. "First the man puts his-"

Seth put his hand over Jake's mouth and winced. "Yeah, we know," he told the boy. "No need for a recap."

"I still want a baby sister," Jake insisted. "I've wanted one for a long time. Even before Dad died, I told Mom I wanted a baby sister. And she told me that they'd have to think about it." He scowled. "I never got one then and I want one now."

"You'll get what you get," Sam pointed out. "You've got a little less than fifty percent chance."

"Less than fifty?" Emmett asked. "Is there some third sex I don't know about?"

Sam shrugged. "Statistically speaking, there are just slightly more boys than girls born."

"Because we're better," Emmett proclaimed and puffed out his chest.

"Because, as a gender, we're slightly more stupid and reckless and die in greater numbers," Sam retorted. Then he eyed Emmett. "Exhibit number one," he added and pointed to his oldest brother.

Emmett just ignored Sam. "See there, short stuff? You've got a one in two chance of getting that baby sister you want so bad." Then he grinned. "We'll see if you're still as excited when you're smelling crappy diapers."

"I already have to smell your farts," Jake pointed out. "Can't be much worse than that."

"Ha ha," Emmett said. Then he frowned. "Man...I can't believe that I'm going to have to tell people my mom is knocked up when we go back to school."

"So don't tell them," Seth advised. "It's not like they know her...or Pops."

"Yeah, but a lot of my friends have brothers or sisters that go to school at the middle school," Emmett said darkly. "And pretty soon, everyone's gonna know."

"So?" Sam asked.

Emmett rolled his eyes and shook his head impatiently. "They'll all know what they've been doing."

"You mean having sex?" Seth teased. Usually the quiet one of the bunch, Seth sometimes seemed to like to shake the bars of the tiger's cage just to see what would happen. "Doing it? Doing the dirty?" This was one of those times.

"Shut it," Emmett snapped.

Seth just snorted and shook his head. "I think everyone's pretty much figured out that they're doing it, Emmett. They're practically newlyweds."

"That doesn't mean it isn't gross," Emmett pointed out. "And it doesn't mean I have to like it." He made a face. "They're _old_... It's just..._wrong_."

"Get over it," Seth said. "We're going to have a new baby in the house."

"God, the noise," Emmett moaned. "You remember when Sam was born? Screaming at all hours of the night?"

"Remember Jake's stinky diapers?" Seth added. "They smelled like Jake was eating dog turds for breakfast."

"At least he didn't scream," Emmett said.

"Yeah, but the stench..." Seth said with a shake of his head.

"There'll be baby crap all over the house," Emmett mused. "Bottles and swings and rattles..."

"And strollers and car seats," Seth added. He sighed and gave a shrug. "I guess it won't be so bad. I mean, babies are usually cute."

"Well, except for Jake," Emmett observed.

"Yeah, there's always an exception to the rule." Seth glanced at Jake, who was clearly unhappy with the direction that the conversation was taking.

"Remember how Dad said that Jake was the quietest James ever born?" Emmett asked.

"Yeah, what happened to him?" Seth shot back.

Jake stood up and crossed his arms over his thin chest. "Hey!"

"Don't get your boxers in a bunch, short stuff," Emmett told him. Then he grinned at Jake. "So...you won't be the baby anymore. Can you handle it? Can you handle the pressure and responsibility of being a big brother?" He frowned thoughtfully. "It's a big job, man. I'm not sure you're ready for it."

Jake snorted. "Course I can. If you can do it, it can't be_ too_ hard, can it?"

"You want to get tickled 'til you pee, kid?" Emmett asked, cracking his knuckles.

"I'm telling Pops," Jake said and ran for the door.

Emmett caught him and held him a bear hug. "I don't think so, kid."

"I'm telling," Jake repeated.

"Geez, calm down, will you?" Emmett asked, putting Jake back on his feet. "Besides, we don't need to be bothering them right now. Pops looked kind of green when Mom rushed for the bathroom that last time."

"Yeah, that's gross," Jake said, shaking his head. "Is she going to do that a lot?"

"Probably," Emmett replied with a shrug. "You'll get used to it."

"I don't think so," Jake replied mournfully.

"It won't last forever," Seth reminded him. "I don't remember much, but I do remember that Mom didn't barf the whole time she was pregnant with you."

"Still gross," Jake muttered.

"Yeah, well, that's what having a baby is all about," Seth said.

Jake looked at his brothers. "I still want a girl."

"Why?" Seth asked. "We don't know anything about girls. If it's a girl, there'll be tea parties and make-up and _dolls_." The last word was said with such derision that three of the boys shuddered.

"I'm not wearing make-up," Jake insisted. "But I wouldn't mind playing tea party with her if no one else was around and I could bring a light saber." His expression brightened. "I could teach her about cool stuff like Darth Vader and Han Solo. No one says girls can't be cool too." He shrugged. "I mean, boys are better, but _our _sister would be awesome no matter what."

"Oh Jake..." Emmett said, batting his eyelashes. "You look_ soooo_ beautiful in your pretty pink dress." Then he pursed his lips and made kissing noises.

Jake just stuck out his tongue. "You're just jealous 'cause the baby is going to like me more than she likes you."

"_He's_ going to know that I'm the most awesome big brother that ever existed," Emmett insisted. "Right Sam?" He nudged his brother.

Sam just rolled his eyes. "I'm hungry. You all can stay up here and argue like idiots. I'm getting something to eat."

"Me too," Jake said. Then he stopped at the door. "But I'm still telling!"

And he fled down the stairs before Emmett could catch him.


	40. Chapter 40: The Sister Factor

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#40 The Sister Factor**

"He totally cried," Emmett said as the boys settled into Seth's tiny room. "It was classic."

"He did not," Jake insisted loyally.

"There was definitely a tear there," Seth supported Emmett's argument.

"Told you," Emmett snorted.

"He probably just figured out that he's stuck with _you_," Jake pointed out. "That would make anyone cry."

"Bite me, Jake," Emmett retorted.

"At least they didn't make us go to school afterward," Jake reminded them all. Instead, they had gone to Pete's for lunch. Mom had already taken the day off and Pops didn't leave for work until later in the afternoon.

"Yeah, that was cool of them," Emmett said. "At least there's that."

The boys fell silent for a moment.

"So...a girl," Emmett finally murmured.

"I _told_ you," Jake muttered.

"What are we going to do with a sister?" Seth asked.

"Love her, make faces at her, teach her about Star Wars..." Jake replied with a shrug. "Same as we'd do with a brother."

"It's not the same thing," Emmett argued. "Girls are different."

"You've got to watch out for girls, protect them," Seth added.

"You've gotta protect brothers, too," Jake said. "You guys watch out for me, don't you?"

"Well yeah, because no one can pick on you except _us_," Seth told him. "That's how that works."

"So we watch out for a sister too," Jake answered. "Easy."

"Not easy, short stuff," Emmett argued. "Girls take more looking after."

"How would you know?" Sam interjected. "You're getting a sister for the first time, the same as us."

"Because I know," Emmett retorted.

"Well,_ I'm_ convinced," Sam said sarcastically. "Say no more."

"Seriously guys," Seth soothed. "Let's think about this. Things are going to be different with a girl around."

"Mom's a girl," Jake offered.

"Yeah, but she's mom," Seth said as if that explained everything.

Jake shrugged. "I don't see what you're all getting so upset about. We're having a sister. That's awesome."

Emmett sank down onto the bed and picked up the football that was on the floor. He leaned against the headboard and began tossing the ball up and catching it again. "Could be awesome," he allowed at last.

"See?" Jake said. "I told you a girl would be good."

"She's not here yet, doofus," Emmett pointed out.

"Yeah, but it won't be long," Jake said.

"Where are they going to put her?" Seth asked.

"I heard them talking," Sam replied. "For the first few months, they're putting a bassinet in their room. After that..." He looked at Emmett. "It looks like you're going to get that room in the garage that you've wanted."

Emmett gave a victory punch. "Yes!" He looked at Jake. "Having a girl is _great_ news. My own room...in the garage no less." He winked. "That's what I'm talking about."

"So where's that leave us?" Seth asked.

"Jake and I will still share a room. I'd bet that they'd give you the option of keeping this room or moving into Emmett's room," Sam replied with a shrug.

Seth looked around his little room. "I'm totally taking Emmett's room."

"And I'm _totally_ going to have my own space," Emmett mocked. "No little brothers allowed," he added with a frown.

"And no girlfriends allowed either," Jake taunted. "Mom'll kick your butt if she catches Rose in there."

"She's going to have to catch her there, isn't she?" Emmett asked slyly.

"Which she will, because _I'll_ tell," Jake shot back.

Emmett just rolled his eyes and began tossing the football again, though his expression was far from happy. It was sometimes quite difficult to endure younger brothers.

The boys were quiet again for a long moment. Then Seth asked, "What do you think it will really be like? Having a sister, I mean?"

"She'll be small and cute," Jake guessed. "And she'll like me best."

"She'll be loud and stinky," Emmett countered.

Jake shrugged. "Not always."

Once again, silence reigned. Then Seth said, "What about her dating?"

"She isn't even born yet. Don't you think it's a little early to worry about her dating?" Sam asked with amusement.

"Not really," Emmett said with a shrug. "It'll happen before we know it." He added this with all of the lofty knowledge he had acquired in his own sixteen years and experience with dating.

"You'll be in your thirties before she can date," Sam pointed out. "In fact, by the time she's in high school, none of us will even be living at home."

"Oh." That was Emmett, who was frowning as he sat up. "Weird."

"But true," Sam assured him. "We'll all be out of the house. Even Jake. He'll be ten years older than the baby, so..." Sam shrugged. "Not our problem."

Emmett sighed heavily and shook his head. "Of course it's our problem, she's our _sister_." He just looked astonished that Sam didn't get it.

"But we won't live here anymore by that time all that stuff happens," Sam reminded him.

"She'll still be our sister, whether we live here or not. There's still the sister factor, no matter where we live," Emmett said. "Besides, Pops will be really old by that time. He's going to need some muscle to back him up." Emmett flexed his muscles and nodded sagely.

"Pops won't be old," Jake protested.

"I'm just saying that any guy that treats our sister wrong is going to be very, very sorry," Emmett insisted.

"You mean if he does the things you think about doing to Rosalie?" Seth taunted and then sidestepped Emmett's hand. Seth made kissing noises and rolled his eyes in the back of his head. "Oh...Rose...Oh _ROSE_!" His room was next to Emmett's and he knew the score.

Then his words were muffled when Emmett caught him and forced his face into the comforter. "Take it back!" Emmett ordered.

Seth just shook his head and mumbled something that none of them could understand. Finally, he pounded on the bed and Emmett released him. "Take it back," Emmett said between gritted teeth.

Seth rolled over and blew out a breath. "Okay, okay, geez...get your panties out of your crack."

Emmett threw himself off the bed and rubbed at the back of his neck, giving his brother dark looks. "Guys," Sam said with exasperation.

"You guys suck," Jake observed.

Seth straightened out his clothes and then shot his brother the finger. Emmett responded in kind. "I'm telling," Jake informed them. "Keep it up and I'm telling."

"You do that, short stuff," Emmett snapped. "Just try it."

"Guys..." Sam repeated.

"Anyway..." Emmett said.

"Anyway," Seth said. "We're having a sister." He looked at each of his brothers. "So how do we feel about that?"

Jake did the victory dance again, adding a little bit of chicken leg he learned from Emmett. Seth shook his head. "Sam?"

"So it's a girl," Sam said. "We'll deal with it." He shrugged. "As long as Mom and Pops are happy..."

Seth looked at Emmett, who appeared uncharacteristically thoughtful. "What about you, Em?"

"Uh yeah...a sister...good deal," he muttered. "I've got to go. Talk to you guys later."

Before his brothers could say a word, Emmett was out of the room and then they heard the door to his room open and close shut. "Okay," Seth said uncertainly. "I guess Emmett's dealing with the news in his own way. As usual."

"What about you, Seth?" Jake asked. "What do you think about the baby being a girl – just like I said all along?" he couldn't help but point out with a smug grin.

"I think it won't be much different from having _you_ around," Seth replied with a wicked grin of his own.


	41. Chapter 41: Speed Demon

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**PLEASE READ CHAPTER 75 OF BIGGER BEFORE READING THIS IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED. :p**_

_**Author's Note: Okay, I'm a bad person. I'm impatient and pushy. I've been DYING to post this little snapshot about Dani and I know it's probably too soon but I just can't resist introducing you to her a bit more. She's so...well, so Dani. I've had so much fun talking with her, as a little girl and a grown up. Yes, I talk to my characters and try to figure out what they're thinking and why. You'll see, as I post more about her, that she doesn't have anything to fear about being intimidated by all those males in her life. In fact, they'd better run. Run far and run fast, because Dani Cullen doesn't take crap from **__**anybody**__**.**_

**#41 Speed Demon**

_**Emmett's POV**_

Her first word was faster.

Her first sentence was, "Daddy, make go faster."

By the time she turned three, her nickname was "Speed Demon" which we alternated with Speedy Gonzalez. Are you beginning to notice a pattern here?

Her favorite shows to watch involved things moving at speeds which could prove lethal. If it moved fast and was loud, she liked it. When she was sick or cranky, we turned on drag racing, monster truck shows, or NASCAR to soothe her to sleep. It worked like a charm. Some babies liked lullabies, Dani preferred the sounds of engines revving.

When she learned how to roll over, she forgot to learn how to stop. At least right away. Or maybe she did that on purpose. But once Dani rolled over, she just kept right on going. It wasn't safe to put her anywhere. Even on the floor. You could put on her on her blanket on the floor and walk away to take a leak and come back to find her under the coffee table or pressed up against the couch and screaming bloody murder.

Did I mention that Dani had a low tolerance for frustration?

Okay, let that be noted. It's important to remember that when we talk about Dani. She wanted what she wanted_ when_ she wanted it. And mostly what she wanted was to go faster. When Pops drove, Dani would start bouncing around in her car seat. When Mom drove, Dani pouted. Mom drove too slow. Pops drove too fast, which was exactly how Dani liked it.

Dani arrived just a few months before I turned seventeen. After I got over the embarrassment of my mother having a baby when I was almost a junior, I sort of began liking the idea of having another kid in the house.

Then we found out it was a girl, which kind of threw everything into an uproar.

I was going to have a sister. I was used to brothers. I could control brothers. A swirlie here, a nipple twister there, even a subtle reminder shot to the nuts and I was the boss again and order was restored.

But what the hell was I going to do with a sister? I decided then and there that I'd treat her just the same as my brothers, minus the nipple twisters and nut shots of course. Swirlies were still on the table – definitely. She wasn't going to get any special treatment just because she was a girl.

Then Dani was actually born. You know that saying about the road to hell and good intentions?

They called us in as soon as they got Mom situated. Being the oldest, I got first rights to hold her. Jake bitched and started to whine but I settled that down with a look of my own. Moms have a look and Pops had a look, but oldest brothers have one too, and I pulled mine out and let it be known that there had better be no dissension in the ranks.

Period.

I sat down in the chair because I was honestly feeling a little shaky and Pops put her in my arms.

I'd never felt something so small and yet so _real_ ever in my life. I put one hand on her tiny chest and I was surprised at how strongly her heart was beating. It didn't seem possible that something that small could seem that alive.

Then she wrapped her impossibly small hand around my finger, or tried to, and that was it.

She had me. It was all over. Of course, I didn't tell anyone that. I'd never have heard the end of it if I had admitted it. But Dani knew. And Dani took advantage of it. When she was little and in her swing, she'd bat those big green eyes at me to get me to turn it on again. When she wanted to ride in her stroller, she'd crawl over to it and bang on it and look up at me, peeking at me from underneath those long lashes that she learned to use about three hours after she was born. "Get moving," she seemed to be saying. She didn't tolerate slackers.

Later on, she had me holding her hands while she learned to walk. Up and down the living room floor, the hallway, the kitchen, wherever Miss Dani decided that our adventures would take us that day. I was hunched over so much that I was pretty sure it would be permanent. Not content with learning to walk, Dani wanted to learn to walk faster. And she told me so.

"Faster, faster," she would mutter and we'd be moving so fast that her little legs could hardly keep up. Then she'd face plant and lie there for a minute, this shocked expression on her little face. After a brief pause, she'd hold onto my hands and get herself up right and off we'd go again. She didn't cry, she just got up and did it again.

Hour after hour after hour.

Then Pops bought her one of those toys that has a handle in the back for you to push her. She decided that Pops should pretty much spend every waking moment that she wasn't running around the house pushing her around it in that thing. When she wore it out, we replaced it.

Four boys may be noisy, but one little girl can create chaos that rivaled kids at Disneyland revved up on Red Bull.

"Daddy, make go faster!" She would order.

That was her favorite sentence in the world.

"Em, make go faster," was her second favorite sentence in the world.

Pops and I were like her service dogs, employees, slaves, and favorite toys all wrapped into two convenient packages. We never stood a chance.

Eventually, as much as I tried to hide it, everyone caught on. They knew that I belonged to Dani Cullen. Rose teased me that I might as well get it tattooed on me, because that was one relationship that would never end. As much as I wanted to argue the point, I couldn't, so I just kept my mouth shut. A guy has to have _some_ pride, not that Dani left me much in the way of pride. Mostly, she just wore me out – with the best of intentions, of course.

It was just that loving Dani was kind of exhausting.

From the moment she opened her eyes until the moment she collapsed at night, she was on the go. She learned to walk before she turned one, and she was running hell bent for leather not long after that. We had baby gates every where, but the first ones to go up were at the top and bottom of the stairs. I honestly thought Mom would have a real heart attack the first time she saw Dani tried to climb _over_ the gate at the top of the stairs and walk down by herself. We didn't have the heart to tell her that that wasn't the first time Dani had attempted that little trick. We had all rescued Dani from certain death at least once. And that was just a warm up for when she was three and tried to "ride" a piece of cardboard down the stairs. We don't need to talk about that. I don't think any of us have recovered from that yet.

We had baby proof locks put on every exterior door. Unfortunately, they were not Dani-proof, and an alarm system was soon a necessity. Pops put a separate, eight foot high fence around the pool, along with two alarms that would go off if anything heavier than a leaf fell into the water. He did that when Dani was a month old. It was like he could see the future.

It wasn't that Dani was bad; it was just that she never stopped. When she was two, Nana gave her a tricycle. Pops and I just looked at each other and sighed, knowing exactly what was in our future.

Sure enough, we both spent so much time jogging behind that little red tricycle that he told me he dropped ten pounds. I just got tired. Even the neighbors knew to move out of the way when they saw us coming. They'd see Dani peddling like a maniac down the sidewalk and hop onto the grass. She didn't hit them on purpose, but she tended to be pretty damned focused. She was, as Pops said with equal parts pride and frustration, very goal oriented. Apparently her goal was to drive us all to insanity. She succeeded.

I was in college by that time, but still living at home. Honestly, I had always planned to go away to college. There was no way in hell I was going to live at home.

But that was before Dani. I compromised. I stayed home for the first two years.

Dani had a way of changing plans. She had a way of changing people. She changed me. She changed Pops (though I am pretty sure he would have gotten grey hair _eventually_ anyway). Somehow, she completed our family.

Even if we were an exhausted mess at the end of the day.

Like last night, when she had been in rare form. She had been trying to figure out how to do wheelies on her tricycle. Jake made the mistake of letting her watch some extreme dirt bike thing on the television. And Dani was pretty sure she could do that. All of it. I had a feeling we were in for a few rough months.

I had hoped she would forget about it. Then, just before the sun came up, I felt tiny fingers tugging at my eyelids. If I wouldn't open my eyes, she would damn well open them _for_ me.

"Em?" I smiled, even though I wanted to curl up and never leave my bed.

"Em..." Dani's voice was impatient now and I opened my eyes.

"Yeah?"

She rewarded my obedience with a blinding smile and placed a sloppy kiss on my lips. "You been eating grape jelly, kid?" I asked her.

"Yep."

I frowned at her. "Did you get it off the high shelf?"

Dani shook her head and giggled. "Jake gotted it."

I looked out the tiny window in my garage bedroom. "It's early, princess."

Dani shook her head, which sent her bright red curls flying. She scrunched up her nose, making her freckles form a line across the bridge of her little nose. "I wanna ride," she told me.

She wanted to ride, which meant I'd be running behind her like a reverse sled dog.

"Dani...Em's tired," I tried to explain.

Her lower lip pushed out and her little shoulders slumped. "Pwease?" she asked, tilting her head. The lower lip trembled. Damn, she was good.

I sighed and swung my feet out of the bed. "Fine, just let me get dressed." And where were my running shoes? "How come you didn't ask Daddy?"

Dani giggled. "Daddy said to find you, Em."

Oh, he was going to pay for that.

"Come on, kiddo," I said, taking her hand. She skipped along beside me. The red tricycle was waiting by the front door for us. Apparently, she had moved it there confident that I would give in. I _always_ gave in.

And we were off, me running and panting behind the little girl with the flying red curls. She was laughing, reveling in the speed and the wind in her hair. Before Dani, I would never have guessed that a tricycle would build up that much speed.

Then she gave me a heart attack by turning around to look at me while she still peddled like a little crazy person. "Dani! Watch where you're going!"

She just laughed at me and kept right on going. Then she whipped around on a driveway and was coming straight at me. I barely avoided the collision but she never slowed down. At all.

Mr. Hoyt jumped out of her way on our trip back and put his hand over his heart when she turned sharply onto our driveway, one wheel leaving the ground entirely. He honestly looked a little pale. "She never slows down, does she?"

I leaned over, panting, and shook my head. "Never," I agreed. I stood up straight. "I hope I'm living in Alaska when she gets her license."

"Amen to that," Mr. Hoyt said fervently.


	42. Ch 42: The Great and Powerful Em

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: Just something for a little fun. Have a great New Year's!**_

**#42 The Great and Powerful Em**

"Em?" The voice was high pitched and very familiar. I laughed when I realized who was on the phone.

"Yeah, princess?" It had been a good day. I had had a good bust and my partner had told me that I had the makings of a good cop – one day. Still, it was cause to celebrate because Peterson wasn't one to give out praise. So I must really have done okay today. And now here was my favorite person in the world on the phone.

"Do you love me?" Dani asked solemnly.

"You know I do." Uh oh. I was about to get conned, coerced, or strong-armed. Dani had a dozen ways to manipulate a man into doing her bidding.

"How much do you love me, Emmie?" Big gun time. Emmie. If she moved onto Emmie-Bear I was done for.

"As much as the world, my little speed demon," I told her and she giggled.

"Emmie?"

"Yes, princess?" I sighed as I opened a beer and sank down in my favorite chair. It had been a good day, but a long one.

"Mommy's being mean," Dani announced. "Could you come and arrest her?"

Once I got myself under control, I tried to act serious. "Uh...Dani...honey, that's not the way it works." I could hear Pops in the background, laughing like a hyena who had been smoking something illegal.

"So you can't arrest her?" Dani sounded disappointed. "But she's being _really_ mean, Emmie-Bear," Dani went on to explain.

"What's wrong, princess?" I asked.

There was a long, heartfelt sigh on the other end of the line. "I want something and she said no."

"What do you want, baby girl?" I asked, knowing I was going to get my ass chewed out by my mother the next time she saw me. Still, better an ass chewing from Mom than a cold shoulder from Dani.

"How much do you love me, Em?" Ah, a more business-like tone. We were getting down the nitty gritty now.

"What did you ask Mom for, Dani?" I pressed.

Another sigh, this one revealing her frustration with me because I hadn't fallen into line with her wishes fast enough. "It wasn't much," Dani demurred.

"Dani," I chided gently, which was about as stern as I could get with the kid.

"I just wanted a dirt bike," Dani finally explained. "And Mom said no. She's mean."

"Maybe she doesn't want you to get hurt," I explained.

"I won't get hurt," Dani promised. There was no way in hell I was getting in the middle of _this_ one. Besides, I happened to agree with Mom on this one. And Pops must have too, or he would have already wheedled my mom into letting him buy one. If there was one issue guaranteed to make Pops stand strong, it was Dani's safety; otherwise he was a big pussy when it came to the princess. We all were, but we never let _him_ live it down. That wasn't the way we worked.

"Dani," I said.

"Yeah, Em?"

"You're six; you don't need a dirt bike."

**~THTF~**

"Em?" I heard something strange in the background. "Can I come stay with you for a few days?"

I groaned and wondered what Dani had done now. I knew that tone. "What'd you do, princess?"

There was a pause. "Nothing much."

"Dani?" I had finally identified the noise.

"Yeah, Em?"

"Why do I hear the fire alarm going off?" There was a long pause and I heard Pops yelling at Mom and telling her that everything was under control.

"Because there's a fire," Dani answered as if I was stupid.

"Why is there a fire?" I asked her.

"Because something got too hot," Dani explained.

"How did something get too hot?" I asked.

"So can I come stay with you for a few days?" Dani changed the subject.

"What did you do, Dani Cullen?"

There was a sigh. "I might have set a _little_ tiny fire by mistake in the garage." She paused. "It was totally by accident, Em, I swear."

I didn't even want to know. No, I didn't. "Dani, put Pops on the phone will you?"

"He's busy right now."

"What's he doing?"

Dani lowered her voice as if sharing a secret. "He's putting out the fire, Em. He's saying lots of bad words." She sighed again. "He's gonna be in _so_ much trouble with Mom when she hears him."

**~THTF~**

"Em?"

I had known there was trouble at home the moment my cell phone went off. Pops had called me to tell me about the scare Dani had given them, and after I had been able to finally stop the shaking in my hands and legs, I had been certain my sister would call me and ask me to come over and help calm down our mother.

Nothing doing.

Besides, who the hell was going to calm _me_ down? I was still trying to get my heart rate into the normal range myself. And Pops hadn't been in any better condition when we spoke. He told me the facts and then blurted out, "I'm getting too old for this shit."

"What the hell were you thinking, Dani Cullen?" The words exploded out of me, making my buddies look at me like I'd lost my mind.

Then Harry nudged Jack, mouthing the words, "Dani must have-"

I didn't catch what came after that, but all of my buddies were well acquainted with the antics of Dani Cullen. In fact, my partner had suggested that we should start circulating Dani's photo now in preparation for her getting her license. "Just so we know who to look out for," he had explained. I would have thought it was funny if it wasn't so true.

"I wasn't hurt...much," Dani said in a small voice. "I didn't even need many stitches!"

"Dani, how many times have we told you not to do jumps on that bike? How many times? A motorcycle is_ not_ a toy, damn it. You could have been _killed_, do you hear me? Killed. Dead. Do you know how many stupid kids I've seen splattered on the side of the road just because they're doing shit that seemed like a good idea at the time?" Every scene where I'd seen a kid's life cut short because of a moment of idiocy flashed through my head.

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line. There was also stunned silence from my friends at the table. We had been eating lunch and then Pops called. I hadn't even been able to talk enough to tell them what Dani had done. I had needed a few moments to compose myself.

Jack put a calming hand on my arm. "Just relax, man."

At the very moment Jack spoke, I heard a muffled sob from the other end of the line. That was enough to make me wonder if I had wandered into an alternate universe. Dani didn't cry. She just didn't. She got pissed. She yelled. She'd even kick one of us in the shins if she thought we deserved it. But Dani Cullen didn't cry.

"Em?" she finally choked out. "Are you mad at me?"

"Guys, I've gotta go," I mumbled. I picked up my jacket and was already out the door, murmuring into the phone. "No, Dani girl. I'm not mad. I'm scared shitless is what I am. Tell Mom and Pops I'm on my way. Go easy on 'em, will you, princess? They're not as young as they used to be." 

Dani laughed then and something unclenched inside of me. She was fine. We'd all be fine.

But I really was going to warn my buddies about Dani when she got her license in two years. And then I was going to see about jobs in Alaska.

**~THTF~**

"Em..." Dani's voice was cajoling already.

"Dani Cullen, do you have any idea how fast you were going?" I asked as I stared into her window.

"I wasn't going _that_ fast," Dani soothed.

I had seen the cherry red car a mile away – and heard it too. Only Dani would drive a 1970 454 Chevelle SS. Any other teenage girl would want a "cute" car. But not Dani. She wanted sheer American muscle. Pops should have known better than to buy her a car with racing stripes. Hell, he should have known better than to buy her a moped. She'd have is souped up and capable of flight before she was done with it.

Dani batted her lashes at me until I pulled out my ticket book. "Between you and Pops, I meet my quota _every_ damned month," I muttered.

"Oh, Em, you aren't seriously going to give me a ticket, are you?" Dani looked at me, clearly shocked. It was damned good to have the upper hand for once.

"Hell yes I am," I told her.

"But Em..." Her lower lip stuck out. There wasn't a girly bone in her body, but she could still play the girl card. "I'm your little sister...you wouldn't actually give me a ticket would you?"

"Maybe it'll slow your ass down," I grumbled. I knew I _should_ give her a ticket. That would be the responsible thing to do. But, in fact, she had only been going ten over the limit, which for Dani was like going twenty _under _the limit. I'd bet anything one of my buddies had stopped her on this stretch of road in the recent past. I'd also bet that they hadn't ticketed her or even issued a formal warning.

She had them all wrapped around her finger just like she did me.

The only thing that saved her ass was that in spite of driving like a bat out of hell, she was a damned good driver. She didn't break traffic laws, except those pesky speed limits, and she didn't party. I knew for a fact that she'd never drink and drive. No, no one in our family would.

She didn't get into any trouble except when it came to being too fast for her own good. She didn't hang out with the wrong crowd. She didn't skip school or stay out late doing God knows what. She was too busy studying and tinkering with cars to do that.

She was a good kid. A good kid with a lead foot, but still...

"Daddy'll be _so_ mad if I get another ticket," she reminded me.

"He's got no room to talk," I muttered. The old man still hadn't learned. When Mom was with him, he drove like a grandpa (which he was), but when he was alone? It was obvious where Dani got it.

Dani looked up at me. "Please, Em? I'll be good. And you know I wasn't going nearly as fast I usually do." Her lips pursed. "Please, Em? For your baby sister?"

I closed my eyes. Fuck. I shoved my ticket book under my arm and sighed while Dani gave a little squeal and clapped her hands. "Oh, Em, you're the best big brother ever!"

I pointed at her. "If I catch you again, I'm giving you the ticket. And I'm telling all of my buddies that if they stop you, they need to write you up. You hear me?"

"I hear you, Emmett, I do," Dani assured me. I was almost convinced.

"Go on," I told her.

"Don't I get a kiss?" she teased.

"What? And hear how an officer was seen accosting a young lady when he stopped her for speeding? No thanks," I told her, unable to stop the smile. Then I sighed. "Seriously, Dani, slow your ass down. Don't make me take your license away."

It didn't escape my notice that she didn't promise, instead, she told me she loved me and drove away, music blaring, engine roaring.

Oh hell.

I wondered what Anchorage was like this time of year.


	43. Chapter 43: Code Red

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: We'll see Dani interact with all of her brothers, but this will give you a little insight to the adults they've become. Thanks as always for reading and your lovely words.**_

**#43 Code Red**

It was early. Too fucking early for a phone call, but when I picked up my phone, I saw the number. "Jake this had better be fucking good," I growled.

"We have a Code Red," he said in a tight voice. "I repeat, we have a Code Red. This ain't a drill, big brother."

Shit. It had finally happened. I sat up and beside me I heard murmuring. "Go back to sleep, babe," I said. "It's just Jake."

"Everything okay?" she whispered sleepily.

"Yeah, everything's cool," I assured her, which was a lie. We had a Code Red situation and shit was about to go down. "Why are you calling me at this hour?"

"I've been working and just got a chance to check my messages," Jake explained. "At least _you've_ gotten some sleep to interrupt." He sounded cranky and tired. If the situation hadn't been so dire, I would have given him shit.

I slipped out of the bed and walked quietly down the hall. "So...who is this fucker?" I asked.

Jake was chewing loudly and I sighed. "Some douche from her physics class apparently," he finally said.

"What are you eating, Lucky Charms or Cinnamon Toast Crunch?" I asked. Jake and his sugar rush. He should know better by now, but he kept eating the crap. Wait until he turned thirty, then he'd know. Then he'd realize that he couldn't eat whatever the fuck he wanted for the rest of his life. I couldn't wait. "Dude, you know better than to eat that shit."

Another bite and more chewing. "Listen, I've had a tough week. I've been awake for thirty six hours and now _this_. Don't give me _any_ shit about my breakfast cereal. If I wanna mainline sugar then I'm going to."

"So...anything I need to know about this guy?" I asked. I could ask around the station, make sure he hadn't been popped for anything. Even a speeding ticket was going to reflect badly on him.

Jake was chewing and swallowing. God this could take a while. Jake ate a lot. Around a mouthful of something unhealthy, he mumbled. "His name is Dylan Morgan. I Googled him, but not much came up beyond a physics prize or something. Oh-"

Dylan? I didn't like the sound of this guy already. But physics prize? I could work with that. "So he's a nerd?" I asked, feeling a little better. I pictured Bill Nye the Science Guy but with acne. I could handle that. I took a deep breath.

"Let me finish will you?" Jake said. "This fucker's on the baseball team too. And he was runner up for the Homecoming King."

"Is he pretty?" I asked. "He thinks he's pretty doesn't he? God's gift to the female gender? Yeah, I know his type. Probably thinks he's a stud or something." There were cures for that. I had a specific one in mind.

I heard drinking and swallowing. Jake was probably drinking out of the milk carton again. He was such a pig.

"I dunno about shit like that, man," Jake said. "All I know is that he's asked our baby sister to prom."

"Does Pops know?"

"Who do you think texted me?" Jake snorted. "He's having chest pain by now, I'm sure."

"What did Mom say?"

"Apparently, she's all excited about taking Dani shopping for a prom dress!" Jake exploded. "Can you believe that shit?"

I muttered something about women sticking together and thought hard. "Did Pops say she could go?" We might not have to interfere at all.

"He tried to say no, but I'm betting Mom pulled the look on him," Jake guessed. "And you know how good she is at that. Dani probably pulled that lip quiver thing. Between Mom and Dani, Pops didn't stand a chance."

"True," I agreed. "Have you called Sam?"

"He's on the west coast at some conference or some shit," Jake explained. "He's not answering his phone in any case."

"He's probably in a hotel room spouting off some scientific mumbo jumbo to some chick while he bangs her," I guessed. It was always the quiet ones who surprised you. Sam got around, he sure did. But to even get a _hint_ out of him you had to use a crowbar. As for details, you could forget it. That wasn't happening. Which was a damned shame because I'd seen some of the women who went for Sam and they could probably work the Victoria's Secret runway. Who would have guessed that being a fucking genius was such a turn on for the ladies? Of course, as Pam at the station told me, it didn't hurt that Sam was six feet four inches of solid muscle and "rocked the whole Clark Kent thing." Women...they were a puzzle. "Did you call Seth?"

"I texted him this morning and the fucker told me to chill out and leave Dani alone, something about a natural rite of passage or some garbage like that," Jake said in disbelief. "Can you imagine that shit?"

"Oh, that's Seth for you," I said. "We don't need him anyway."

"So...are you going to go over there?" Jake asked, munching away on something different. Sounded like cookies – probably Chips Ahoy, his favorite.

"Hell yeah," I told him. Where had I put the fucking coffee? "Hey, when's this prom?"

"Dunno, you'll have to ask Pops." More slurping and chewing and finally a discreet – for Jake anyway – belch.

"I'll take care of it," I promised.

"Good," Jake answered. "Listen, I'm going to crash. But text me and let me know how things went."

"How are things going with you? You seeing anyone?" I had to ask. The women in my life were going to grill me after they figured out I had talked to Jake. And they always figured it out. Damn it.

Jake snorted. "Buddy, I don't have time to take a piss, much less date." He sighed and I knew he was probably running his fingers through his hair. "I'll date in a few years...when I'm human again."

"Catch you later."

** ~THTF~**

I pulled up to the house in the cruiser. A cheap move, I knew it. But I didn't care. If the little fucker in question happened to be there, it certainly wouldn't hurt to remind him that Dani had four big brothers – and one of them was a cop. I saw that Uncle Masen's car was here. Good. Reinforcements.

I let myself in without bothering to knock. None of us ever did. "Yo! I'm back!"

Mom stepped out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel and suddenly I was twelve years old again. I sniffed the air. "Chocolate chip cookies?" I guessed. "I want some."

She frowned at me. "That depends on why you're here, young man."

Talk about feeling twelve again. I shoved my hands in my pockets. "Can't a guy just drop by to see his Mom and tell her he loves her?"

Mom snorted and turned around and walked into the kitchen. I followed her and stopped dead. Well, if our side had reinforcements, then so did Dani's. "Hi, Aunt Alyssa," I said as I snuck a cookie. "How are you?"

Aunt Alyssa just looked at me over her glasses and stared.

"How are the boys?" I asked.

She blinked at me, and then finally gave a little sniff. "Kyle's fine, diving off the coast of Australia or something." She shrugged. Kyle was an underwater photographer and gaining some notice in all the right places. "Alex is giving Masen a run for his money at the office." Alex had followed in his father's footsteps and was now dogging them, proving that the advertising apple didn't fall far from the tree. "But he and Julie did tell me that they're giving me another grandchild around Christmas."

"Congrats," I said with a genuine smile. I had seen Dani out of the corner of my eye and I was being ignored. I went up to her and tried to give her a hug. She danced away from me and took something out of the oven, keeping a hot tray of cookies between us.

"If you're here why I think you're here, you can just forget it," she said. "I'm going to prom and I'm going with Dylan and there's not a damned thing you can do about it."

"Language, Dani," Mom admonished automatically.

"Hey, Emmett." It was Uncle Masen and right behind him was Pops.

"Hey, Uncle Mase...Pops," I said. I went to stand beside Pops. I put my arms over my chest, noticing that Pops and Uncle Masen did the same. We all looked at the women we loved and were, secretly, afraid of.

Dani, Aunt Alyssa, and Mom lined up too, all of them giving us the look. Somehow, I don't think they were the least bit afraid of us.

"Dani, listen to me, prom is just an excuse for boys to try and get you out of your panties," I tried to tell her. Might as well get it all out in the open. No sense in dancing around the truth.

Taking a step forward, Dani poked me in the chest. "Emmett James, tell me one thing - how well do I listen?"

I snorted. "Not at all."

"To you?" she asked. I shook my head. "Do I listen to Pops?"

"When the mood strikes," I replied with a smirk.

"Okay, so what makes you think I'd let a boy talk me out of my panties unless I _wanted _to be out of my panties?"

Pops groaned and put his hand over his heart. "Dani..."

She shot him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Dad, but honestly, this is ridiculous."

"Why don't you go with a group of friends?" I suggested. "_Female_ friends?"

"Why don't you kiss my-?"

"Dani," Mom cut in.

Dani whirled around. "Honestly, I'm almost seventeen years old. I'm going to prom with Dylan. I've known Dylan since kindergarten. He's cute, he's smart, and he likes me. That's all I need to know."

I put my hand over my heart. _Stab me straight through the old ticker, why don't you, Dani_?

She walked up to Pops and hugged him. "Daddy, you know me. No one is going to talk me into anything. Dylan is sweet. He's not that kind of guy."

"Dani, I hate to tell you this, but they're all that kind of guy," Pops muttered.

Hell, yes they were.

"So you were that kind of guy?" Dani asked speculatively, eyeing Pops.

I could see the deer in the headlights look come over him. "Uh... well, that is...uh...that was...different. I was grown up and..." He stopped and looked at Mom who just gave him a look that told him he was on his own with that one. "It's not pertinent, Danica Elizabeth – not at all."

"So how old were you?" Dani pressed. "You know, when you gave it up?"

"What?" Poor Pops looked like he was dying. I wondered how long it would take rescue to get here.

"You know, when you did it for the first time?" Dani said, giving me a wicked look. Oh hell. I was next, I just knew it.

"When I married your mother," Pops lied boldly.

Dani snorted but let it go. Mom just rolled her eyes. "And what about you, big brother? How old were you?"

No way in hell was I going there. "None of your damned business," I snapped.

"Then I don't see how it's any of your _damned_ business either," Dani told me. She turned to Mom and Aunt Alyssa. "Mom, Aunt Lys, you know me. You know that I'm more responsible than that. No boy is going to persuade me to do anything I don't want to do."

Yeah, but what if _Dani_ was the one doing the persuading? Did she think I hadn't considered that possibility?

Then Dani went up to Pops and put her hands on either side of his face. "Daddy, you should have more faith in yourself. You raised me to think more of myself than that. Daddy, you taught me right from wrong. You taught me to respect myself. I haven't forgotten that. And Dylan respects and likes me just as I am."

I was going to remind her that boys did all of their thinking with that appendage that got them into so much trouble. Yeah, Dani was smart and all, but boys could be persuasive. I remembered... Shit, it was no fun being on_ this_ side of the argument.

She must have sensed that I was going to make some asinine observation because she whirled around and pointed at me. "And no more out of you. I'm going to the prom. I'm going to dance. I'm going to flirt with Dylan a little bit and yes, I'll let him kiss me. But that's as far as it will go, not that it's any of your business."

She stormed out of the kitchen, pausing to give Uncle Masen a kiss on the cheek because he'd had the sense to keep his mouth shut.

Mom shook her head and followed Dani out of the kitchen and then Aunt Alyssa followed suit, giving her husband a quick squeeze of his hand.

I looked at Pops. "Well...that went well."

"She's never wanted to date before," Pops said as he sank into a chair. "I was hoping...well I was hoping we could skip that stage, you know?"

"I know," I said.

"I don't understand," Pops said in a daze. "Just yesterday she was making us chase on her on that damned trike, and now..." He hung his head. "Now there are boys involved." Then he muttered something that sounded like Harley or hardy but I couldn't be sure. Maybe it was barley. Who the hell knew?

"Pops, listen, I'll make sure we have some cars drive by the prom and stuff. I mean, it's a hot spot for trouble, so it's not like..." I let my voice trail off at the lost look Pops gave me. I clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, Pops, really I am." He had been a soldier. He was a stand up guy. He could take it. I hoped.

"I suppose it had to happen one day." Pops just sort of sat there looking like a kid who had his ice cream cone stolen by the class bully.

Uncle Masen finally spoke up. "If it's any consolation, Eddie boy, I honestly don't think she's having sex...yet."

Pops' head fell forward and hit the table with a thud.


	44. Chapter 44: A Tuesday in April

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: You'll get the bare facts of the cause of Seth's injury in the epilogue. But here is a look at the events themselves.**_

**#44 A Tuesday in April**

I checked the time again. Damn. I was running behind schedule. A stupid teacher's meeting had run over time, and Edward had taken Dani to the pediatrician today, so he wasn't home yet. Dani was supposed to start preschool in the fall and even though it was only April, we went ahead and got her physical taken care of. She was so excited about starting school, though she was a bit disappointed to hear that she wouldn't be going to Jake's school.

While Dani was excited, Edward was not. In fact, he was pouting a bit. He insisted that his baby was too young to be "thrown to the wolves" as he put it. I had soothed him and coddled him and eventually we had compromised on a three day program. She'd be in school for five hours on those days. I tried to convince him that it would give him free time since he was the one home with her during the day. He told me he had had forty years of "Dani-free time" and didn't need any now. I had a feeling he would appreciate it once he had it.

I was sliding the meatloaf into the oven when I heard the car door slam.

A few moments later, I heard, "Dani! Slow down. You're going to fall."

I had to laugh, able to see exactly what had happened in my mind. He would have "freed" her from the restraint of her car seat and like a rambunctious puppy she would have zipped across the lawn, taking little heed of any potential hazards in her way. Usually those hazards were ones she herself had left laying around.

Then the front door opened and my whirlwind was hurtling herself toward me. "Mommy!"

At not quite three years old, Dani Cullen was a force to be reckoned with. I kissed Edward. "How was she?" Then she was off again, and I heard her stampeding up the stairs.

He shrugged, already moving toward the stove to see what he could snitch. "Good as gold, actually. No tears, no screaming." He grinned. "No shots, so that might have something to do with it."

"Lucky," I muttered. I had drawn the short straw last time and taken her in for her shots.

He winked at me as he shoveled green beans into his mouth. Cold. Gross.

"Where are the boys?"

"Emmett is upstairs cleaning their bathroom," I said. "He owed Seth a chore and Seth picked that one."

"Nice," Edward said approvingly. The boys bet their chores with distressing regularity. I finally decided to turn a blind eye and pretend that I believed them when they said they were betting hugs. As if.

"Sam is doing homework and Jake is at Kyle's house," I said. "Probably driving Alyssa to drink. She called earlier and invited him to dinner. They're having pizza." I grinned. "When Jake found out that we were only having meatloaf he decided to stay there." I looked at the clock and frowned. "And Seth is at practice."

Seth and a few of his friends had formed a little band about six months ago. One of the other boy's mothers didn't mind them practicing there, so they rotated. One day our house, the next day, Shawn's house. Shawn even kept a rather battered set of drums at our house, though Emmett wasn't too fond of the arrangement. I liked knowing where my son was and what he was doing, no matter how loud they were.

Edward glanced at the clock too. "Shouldn't he be home by now?"

"Yeah, actually," I said. "Why don't you give him a call and remind him that he needs to come on home. It's a school day tomorrow." I laughed. "They probably lost track of time." It had happened, though he usually wasn't late by much.

Edward took out his cell and called Seth. A few moments later, he disconnected with a frown. "No answer."

"Maybe he's on his way home," I suggested. "He knows we don't like him to talk or text while he drives."

"Maybe," Edward said, but his expression suggested that he was troubled. Then he shook his head. "Yeah, you're probably right."

The doorbell rang and the timer on the oven dinged at the same time. I had to add some milk to the macaroni and cheese and stir. "Babe, will you get that?"

Edward nodded and I heard him open the door. I heard the murmur of voices and then...nothing.

Curious, I picked up a dish towel and dried my hands and walked to the front door.

And stopped.

No.

Suddenly, it was seven years ago and I was watching a Texas dawn barely break over the horizon, promising another hot July day. Two men stood on my door.

Two men. Two men at my door with solemn faces.

I felt myself swaying, hardly aware of the thunder of Emmett's feet on the stairs. Emmett. Safe. Edward. Safe. Jake. Safe. Sam. Safe. Seth...

Oh God. Seth.

I felt Emmett's arms around me and I knew that he too was back in Texas, on the day his whole life had changed.

"Please God...please God...please God..." Someone was whispering.

Edward's hand came out to grab at the doorjamb. His knuckles were white. His face slightly turned toward me, his eyes were watery and his skin was pale, making his green eyes stand out in that white face. I could see him swallow hard and then he closed his eyes.

My knees buckled.

No. I couldn't do this again. Not my baby, God. You _owe_ me, damn it. You can't do this to me again.

The officers asked if they could come in, as if we'd say no. A part of me was tempted. Stay out there and it isn't real. Come inside and I have to admit that...

Emmett's arms tightened around me. I felt a tremor run through him.

"Ma'am," one of the officers said as he removed his hat. "Ma'am?"

Edward closed the door and the sound made me flinch. I was locked in here with these men and their terrible news.

Emmett led me to the couch and sort of pushed me down onto it, as if afraid my legs couldn't support my weight. To my surprise, I discovered he was right. Then Edward was standing beside me, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, but he wasn't speaking. He didn't sit, even when I tugged at his hand. His fingers closed around mine, squeezing – a terrible pressure that should have hurt.

"Are you the parents of Seth James?" one of them asked kindly. Too kindly, too gently. They were trying to ease into the news.

I gave a nod, incapable of words. Edward said in a voice I didn't recognize. "Yes." That seemed to be all he could say.

"There's been an accident," the younger one said.

I looked at him and waited for the words – I'm terribly sorry. I'm terribly sorry. I'm terribly sorry...

"Your son's been life-flighted..."

There were more words after that, but my mind could only cling to one. Life. _Life._

Seth was alive.

Edward's hand was hard and damp around mine. He was nodding and asking questions but I didn't hear them. I didn't hear the answers the officers gave. Edward showed the officers to the door. Apparently, their job was done.

I hadn't wanted to release his hand, but Emmett pulled me close and Edward slipped away.

Had my son slipped away while I sat here?

The door closed behind the men with a thud. It sounded too final. Then I heard Edward's voice again. He was calling...someone. I didn't know who. "Thanks, Mase." His voice sounded strange, strangled almost.

Masen then. Why? Masen couldn't fix this.

"Alyssa's coming over now," Edward said. "She'll watch the kids. She's bringing Jake with her." He paused. "I told her not to tell him what's going on."

I nodded, but I barely registered the words. My mind was with Seth. Was he in pain? Did he know what had happened?

I had to push that thought away or I would lose my mind.

Just get to him. That's all I wanted to do. I wanted to leave now, but...

"Go," Emmett said. "I'll talk to Jake."

I shook my head even as Edward said, "No." He looked at Emmett. "I appreciate it, Emmett. But we need to tell him." He sighed. "And Sam. I'll go get him." But he didn't have to because Sam was there standing on the bottom stair.

"What's wrong?" he said.

I wanted to tell him. I wanted to be strong. Where was the woman who survived her husband's death? But this was different. When your husband goes off to war, some small part of you knows...

Seth was my son. It's just a Tuesday evening in April. He's supposed to be home, in his room, putting off his homework and playing his guitar instead. He's supposed to be bugging me about when dinner will be ready. He's supposed to be leaving his shoes by the door and I'm supposed to be yelling at him to put them up now before I break my neck tripping over them. He's supposed to be teasing Dani about her red hair and freckles and calling her princess.

He's not supposed to be fighting for his life.

That's not how it's supposed to be.

Then Edward was explaining what we knew to Sam. He just stared at Edward. Then at me. Before I could say anything, the door was opening and Jake was running to me. He didn't know, but he _knew_. His eyes flickered from Edward to Emmett to Sam.

"Where's Seth?" he asked bluntly.

_Where's Seth?_

I needed to see my son. I needed to touch him. I needed to hear the sound of his breath; I needed to brush his dark hair back from his forehead. I needed to see his eyes, hear his voice. I needed.

Edward pulled Jake into his arms and squeezed him too tightly. "Jake, there's been an accident." Jake pulled away, shaking his head, but Edward pulled right back and buried Jake's face in his chest. "Your Mom and I, we have to go the hospital to see him. You need to stay here."

Jake leaned back. "I want to see him too."

Edward nodded. "I know, buddy. But first your Mom and I have to see..." His words trailed off and he looked at me.

We had to find out if Seth was still alive.

"We have to see him first," Edward finished. "Then later on, Uncle Masen can bring all of you." He paused. Dani hadn't come downstairs yet. Thank God. "Alyssa can stay here with Dani."

"I'm going," Emmett said.

I shook my head but Emmett just shrugged. "I'm an adult. I have a car. I'm going. I'm either going with you or without you."

"I'm going too," Sam said, going to stand by Emmett.

"I'm not staying by myself," Jake said quietly.

Masen stepped up, speaking for the first time. "You guys go ahead, leave the boys here." There was an immediate protest but Masen held up his hand. "I'll bring the boys up in an hour. That'll give you time..." He looked at Edward, then at me. That would give us time to find out if we still had four sons. "Just go."

**~THTF~**

I never remembered the drive there. The only vague memory I had of it was the sweaty feel of Edward's hand around mine. He parked in the emergency room parking area. The security guard tried to talk to us but we just breezed past him and Edward went to the reception desk.

"Seth James," he said quickly. "He was...he was brought in on Life Flight."

"He's being worked on right now," the woman said quietly. "I'll have a doctor come out and talk to you. There's a small waiting room over there. You'll have privacy."

I knew enough to grasp that we had been given both good and bad news. The good news? Seth was still alive. But it was bad, very bad. They don't give you privacy unless it's bad.

We sank into chairs in the tiny little room with its pale green walls and ugly carpet, our hands holding onto each other's. I watched the clock and realized that Masen would have already left with the boys. Would we know anything by the time they arrived?

Just as I wondered, there was a discreet knock on the door and it opened. The doctor walked in, her face compassionate but reserved.

"Mr. and Mrs. James?" she asked, which startled me. But of course it made sense. We had indicated we were Seth's parents, and he was Seth James. "I'm Dr. Mayfair."

"Edward and Bella Cullen," Edward corrected but she didn't blink. Such things were so common place now that she just nodded. "How is our son?" I could feel him steeling himself.

"Please...sit down," the doctor said.

I gripped Edward's hand so tight that I was sure it had to hurt. He didn't even seem to notice. "First, Seth is in the critical care unit now. I'll take you up there as soon as we're done talking."

I nodded, releasing the breath I had been holding. At my side, Edward did the same.

"How is he?" Edward asked. I seemed incapable of speech or coherent thought.

"He's alive," Dr. Mayfair said carefully.

We absorbed that for a moment. "I'll be honest," she continued. "The next twenty four hours are critical. In these types of injuries, there are no easy answers."

"What type of injury?" I finally managed to say.

Dr. Mayfair said quietly, "Seth has sustained a traumatic brain injury. I wish I could give you a good idea of what to expect, but the simple fact is that everyone responds differently to these types of injuries." She smiled slightly. "I can tell you that Seth is young and healthy and in good shape. That will help. The brain has amazing recuperative powers. We just have to wait and see. Hopefully, in twenty four hours, we'll have a better idea of what we're facing."

I nodded, though in reality I hadn't understood much of it. Everything was jumbling around in my head until there was nothing but a dull roar.

She was then leading us down a corridor and to a small elevator. "Seth has some other injuries, but they aren't life threatening. He's got a pretty severe laceration on his face. We've got a plastic surgeon coming in to have a look at that. He's got a compound fracture of his left femur, several broken ribs on his left side, a broken arm."

The list seemed endless. What the hell had happened to my son?

Edward turned steely green eyes on the doctor. "What the hell happened to our son?" Our thoughts, as they so often were, had been in sync.

Dr. Mayfair seemed surprised. "He was hit by a drunk driver," she said quietly.

"And the driver of the other car?" I asked.

Her eyes went to her feet. "He died at the scene."

Some small part of me, a part I wasn't proud of, was glad. I was ashamed of that reaction, but I couldn't help it. It was gut and heart, not head.

"Was anyone else hurt?" Edward asked.

Dr. Mayfair shook her head. "Just Seth."

Then we were in the ICU and she took us to his room. At first, I was sure we were in the wrong room. The stranger on that bed, hooked up to all sorts of tubes and wires, that couldn't be my Seth.

The hiss of a ventilator filled the room and I watched the bruised chest rise and fall with every hiss of sound. This boy's head was half-shaved and some staples marred the flesh. His face was bandaged, skirting just around his left eye. Both eyes were swollen shut. He was bruised all over. His left leg was in traction, and his left arm in a cast. His torso was wrapped and only a sheet covered him below the waist.

But this wasn't my son.

Then I noticed his right hand. The long fingers that were so familiar to me, the small scar he'd gotten when he and Emmett decided to play with Mac's tools and Emmett had cut him with a box cutter by accident. The odd little curve of his right pinky finger where he'd slammed it in a car door.

It was Seth. He had been broken in a way I couldn't comprehend.

All I could think as I walked toward him was that this was so much worse. So much worse than seeing Mac in a casket. So much worse than the nightmares that every parent had.

This was my baby, and he was dying.

No one could survive this. No one.

Not even me.

Everyone had their breaking point and I had reached mine. Even with Edward at my side, I knew there was no way I would make it through this if I lost Seth. I didn't have any strength left.

**~THTF~**

Time was a relative thing in a hospital. Like a casino, it sort of ceased to have much meaning. There was sunlight in the window and then there was darkness, but none of it mattered. Your focus was on a bed and the still figure in that bed.

You listened to the hiss of the machines that breathed for them. You heard the doctors discussing test results; you watched them consult the machines and shake their heads or nod. You heard them give you good news and bad news, but none of it meant that much because the figure on the bed looked the same. You grieved and you prayed and you made bargains with God. _Take me instead_. _Anything you want. I'll give anything_.

But most of all, you held onto that still, warm hand and willed it to squeeze back.

At some point, I began asking Mac to send Seth back if he saw him. Craziness, but I knew if it was possible, Mac was listening. Seth had two fathers watching over him, I was sure. Mac was somewhere out there, standing guard just as we were.

People dropped in to see him. The boys stayed for a few moments. Jake couldn't stand it and ran out crying. Sam was stoic, but he left too. They refused to leave the hospital during the day though. All day long, Seth's brothers kept their own silent watch outside his room – in the waiting room, in the hallways, in the cafeteria where they sat and didn't eat. We didn't let Dani see him. We talked to her on the phone and told her that Seth was sick. She accepted it; she was too young to question and Alyssa and Esme and Mom kept her happily occupied.

Emmett sat there with us sometimes. He and Edward would murmur quietly to each other, remarking how Seth's color was better or how strong he was. I asked Alyssa to take the boys home at night. She did, but confessed that no one was sleeping much. Dad and Mom flew in, but I didn't remember our conversation. Esme and Carlisle arrived at dawn on day after the accident. Josh and Will arrived on Wednesday night, almost twenty four hours to the minute that Edward had opened the door to find two men. Through it all, it was mostly Edward and me.

I knew better than to tell Edward to leave and get some rest. It would have been insulting to us both. This was our vigil, _our_ son.

We ate when someone pushed us to. We dozed in the uncomfortable chairs, taking turns so that one of us was always awake and talking to Seth. We urged him to stay with us. We told him that we loved him. We told him that we couldn't imagine a life without him and not to make us try.

Then on Thursday evening, as Edward and I choked on some sandwiches that tasted like saw dust, we noticed Seth's hand twitching. That was nothing new, but something made us drop our sandwiches and go to his side. Parental intuition perhaps, or angels tapping us on our shoulders. I took Seth's right hand while Edward hovered at his left side and brushed his hand over the unmarked side of Seth's face.

Slowly, Seth's eyes opened. I heard a muffled sob and thought it might be me. I looked and saw that it was Edward.

"You're back," he whispered to Seth. "You've come back to us.

Seth blinked and seemed to take in where he was. He would probably have no memory of the accident, but he seemed to realize he was in a hospital. He looked at me and tried to smile around the tube of the ventilator. He looked at Edward.

Then he lifted his right hand and gave us a weak thumbs up, but it was enough.

And that was the night that Seth came back to us, that Thursday night in April.


	45. Chapter 45: Scrap Metal

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#45 Scrap Metal**

_**Edward's POV**_

It had been two weeks since the accident. Seth was still in the hospital, and had a long and very difficult road ahead of him. But he would live. That's all I cared about. When I had seen the officers at the door, two thoughts had occurred to me simultaneously: first that something had happened to Seth, and that he was gone; and second, that I got an inkling how Bella had felt when the casualty notification officers showed up at her door.

The past two weeks had been a blur. Charlie and Renee had finally gone back to Washington a few days ago, both of the looking older and haggard. Bella and I didn't look any better. Mom and Dad were staying to help with Dani, which was a godsend. Bella and I were spending our days with Seth; our nights were finally spent in exhausted slumber in our bed. It had taken a week for us to feel comfortable leaving Seth, even just at night.

He had been moved from the critical care unit to a regular room on the orthopedic ward. His broken leg was now the most concerning of his injuries, though the doctors had explained that the brain injury might have some permanent effects such as short term memory loss, personality change, mood swings, and poor impulse control. Seth had survived, but he would be forever changed – as would we all. Something else had changed for me since the accident. They were my boys in every sense of the word. They were Mac's son, but they were mine, too. When that chaplain had said for better or worse, that had applied to all of us.

This morning, Bella had gone to the hospital alone for the first time. Mundane problems like needing a second vehicle had compelled me to take care of some business. Masen was taking me to Dewey's dealership, where he already had something waiting to replace the Vader-Mobile.

Masen walked right in; that's how it had been for two weeks. I wasn't complaining. All of us had drawn together, and honestly, I would have lost my fucking mind if not for my brother. It was Masen who filled in at the bar; it was Masen who held me while I cried like a pussy and who had promised never to tell a soul. It was Masen who had saved my sanity, and given me strength so that I could at least appear strong for Bella.

"Hey," he said, tossing his keys up in the air. "How's Seth?"

I shrugged. "Bella said he threw his breakfast tray this morning."

The physician had told us to expect outbursts like that.

"Well, you can't really blame him. Hospital food sucks," Masen observed. I had to laugh. That was Masen, always willing to provide comic relief.

"You ready?" I asked.

Masen just rolled his eyes. "No, I'm standing here holding my keys instead of my dick just because."

It was a sign of how much better Seth was doing that Masen was back to making jokes now. He hadn't done that for two long weeks. It was reassuring, the fact that he was back to being the old, familiar pain in the ass.

"Listen, I'd like to drop by and take a look at the Suburban," I said, shoving my hands in my pockets. I wasn't sure why I had to see it; I only knew that I did.

"Okay," he agreed. "Do you know where it's at?"

I pulled the address out of my pocket. "Yeah, not too far."

"We're good to go, then."

Twenty minutes later, we were pulling up to a large, fenced lot. You couldn't see over the fence and a sign declared "Parts, You Pull, Cheap!"

Good to know.

We went into the office and there was an older woman there. She looked bored and didn't do much more than give us a general direction. We went through the far door and out into the junk yard.

We were surrounded by broken cars and trucks. Like some giant child's discarded Matchbox cars, they were strewn about with little regard for order. I supposed that someone had to know how they were organized, since the woman had been pretty confident where we would find it.

"This way," I said.

You know how you think you're prepared for something, how you think you have a pretty good idea of what to expect?

And you know how you feel when suddenly you realize you didn't have a fucking clue?

We turned a corner and there it was. I knew it was ours because of the license plate on the front. It featured Darth Vader and the caption was "Who's Your Daddy?" It had been Jake's gift to Bella last Christmas.

I stared at the Suburban for a moment, wondering how the hell Seth had survived at all. An officer had come by to speak to us at the hospital briefly; there wasn't much to do since the other driver had died at the scene. He was just making sure we had the necessary paperwork for insurance and stuff. The officer had told me bluntly, after Bella went back to Seth's room, that if our boy hadn't been in such a big, sturdy vehicle, he never would have made it. "Built like tanks, those things," he said with an admiring shake of his head.

The Vader-Mobile was no more, but it had saved Seth's life.

It seemed as if the whole driver's side had been pushed over about three feet, like an accordion that had been crushed. Or the giant child had pinched it in a fit of temper. An air bag flopped out the passenger window. The windshield was gone. On what was left of the dashboard, there were rust colored smudges. I knew what they were but I chose to ignore them.

As I got closer, I could see inside and the damage there was even more horrific than the exterior. Seth's seat looked too small, but I realized that was because it had been crushed. I put my hand on the broken driver's side window and looked in.

I had been scared when I was deployed, sometimes I had even experienced a moment of real terror, the sphincter-tightening kind where you know you'd shit yourself if your ass wasn't puckered up so tight.

But looking into that hellish place from where they'd rescued my son, I realized that that fear had been nothing to write home about. It had been a carnival compared to this.

I must have looked pretty bad because Masen came to stand beside me and put his hand on my shoulder. "You okay there, Edward?"

I shook my head. "No, no I'm not."

Masen just nodded. "This is some messed up shit," he observed.

"He could have died, Mase."

Masen's hand tightened on my shoulder. "But he didn't. He's tough, Edward. He made it. And now you've gotta be tough too. It isn't going to be easy, what Seth's got to go through, so you've got to man up, buddy."

I stood there for a moment and then nodded. He was right. I needed to get my shit together. Bella needed me. Seth needed me. My _family_ needed me. "I'm okay now, Masen."

He hesitated. "You know...if you're ever feeling..._not_ okay...I'm here, right?" Masen looked at the ruined Suburban once more. "And it doesn't go anywhere. What happens in the house of Masen stays there."

And I was laughing because I was afraid if I didn't I would cry and I was up to my quota on that shit. "Good to know."

I stepped away. "You want me to grab your stuff out of there?" Masen offered.

There were some things we needed out of there, personal stuff. Seth had bitched because one of his favorite CDs was in the center console. "Yeah, that would be great." I didn't have the energy to take care of that, but Masen was already leaning in the passenger window and trying to rummage through the glove compartment. "The center console is wrecked, man. It's jammed. I can't get shit out of there. You'll have to replace that CD for Seth."

I just nodded.

We were walking away and I stopped and looked back at it one more time. "Bella...Bella can't see this."

"No need, Edward," Masen assured me. "It'll be scrap as of now. Nothing to see."

I thought about it and then nodded. "Yeah, scrap metal, that's all. Let's go."

We got into the car and Masen paused as he backed up. "You've been great through all of this Edward. I would be a complete basket case if it was one of my boys, but you've really been there for Bella and the kids. I just wanted you to know that..." He gave an embarrassed laugh. "Well, I just wanted to say that even though you haven't been doing this fatherhood thing for long, you've passed the hardest fucking test I can imagine with flying colors. So chill, and rest on your laurels for a bit buddy. You deserve it."

I closed my eyes and leaned back against the headrest. After a long silence, I just said, "Thanks, Masen...for everything."


	46. 46: Jake James, Stalker Extraordinaire

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: This really doesn't contain spoilers for the Em/Rose story, but it does provide a glimpse into Jake's future. Just a heads up.**_

**#46 Jake James, Stalker Extraordinaire**

Jake James felt like a stalker. He stood outside the little girl's hospital room and gathered up the courage to knock on the door and go inside. It wasn't as if he didn't have some sort of right to be there. He was, after all, a physician practicing in this hospital. Yes, if one wanted to get technical (and Jake didn't) then the care of this particular child had been handed over to a pediatrician. He could have gotten an update on her condition very easily by glancing at her chart or asking the doctor now taking care of her.

But if he had done that, he wouldn't have had any chance at all of speaking to the little girl's mother.

So, he had been reduced to a form of stalking, if one was speaking in a strictly technical sense. He took a deep breath and knocked, then opened the door quickly, afraid that he would lose his courage if he didn't act immediately.

The little girl was asleep, curled up with a stuffed dog or wolf or something, her dark hair a stark contrast to the snowy white pillow case. Sitting in a chair by the bed was the person he had really come to see. Gabriella. Even her name was beautiful, he thought.

She turned her big dark eyes his way and Jake knew he was in some serious trouble. Swallowing hard, he gave her a tentative smile. "Hi, I'm Dr. James, uh..._Jake_ James," he said. Gabriella Ross returned the smile, though hers was more certain.

"I remember," she said softly. "You treated us both in the emergency room." She held up left arm, the one with the cast and smiled. "You're very good," she said with a twinkle in her eyes. Her hair fell in tight curls to her shoulders. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked. She turned to look at the little girl, Rebecca, who had stirred slightly in the bed. Gabriella's profile was strong, her cheekbones high, her lips full and ripe, her curly lashes resting on her cheeks as she studied her daughter. She was beautiful in an unconventional way.

Jake decided that he liked unconventional. A lot.

Her eyes flickered back to his and he sensed some secret amusement in her gaze. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at the ground. He felt his hair slipping loose and knew that he should restrain it again. Pops always teased him about the long hair. Emmett called him "Chief Pain in the Ass."

"I wanted to thank you," she said softly. "When we came in, I was so...terrified, but you made me feel better. You were... Well, you were wonderful." Her eyes went to the little figure on the bed. "To both of us."

Jake nodded and cleared his throat. He wondered how she would take his next question. "I uh...I wondered if her father had come to see her yet?" _And how much more transparent could you get, James? Why not just ask if she's spoken for and be done with it?_

Gabriella's lips twitched and she tilted her head and considered him. "Her father hasn't been in the picture since before she was born," Gabriella said without any emotion.

"Oh," Jake replied. He knew he should make some polite remark about how that was a shame, but he didn't have it in him to be that dishonest. "Too bad," was all he could manage. What kind of ass walked away from a woman like this and that precious little girl? Jake wondered if maybe he should find that guy and teach him a little lesson. Maybe one day. Still, one man's loss just might be another man's gain.

Her lips twitched again and she shrugged. "It is what it is," she said. She looked at her daughter once more. "Me and my baby, we're good."

"She's a great kid," Jake said as he moved closer. He made himself quite at home on the other side of Rebecca's bed.

"Yeah," Gabriella said. "She is."

"Reminded me of my little sister when she came in," Jake continued. "I could tell she was scared and hurting, but she was really brave. A real trooper."

"You sound like you're close to your kid sister," Gabriella remarked.

Jake shrugged. "Close to all of them, I guess. They make me crazy, they make me want to scream, but...you know...they're mine." They shared a smile. "I guess that's the definition of family, right? They make you insane?" 

"Sounds like a good family," Gabriella said. "How many of you are there?" He wondered if she was just humoring him, but then he figured she had to get bored just sitting here. A textbook was on the table beside her, a highlighter stuck in between the pages.

He tugged at a strand of hair. "Uh well, let's see, there were four boys, and then my Dad got killed in the war." Before he could continue, Gabriella made a noise of sympathy. It had been a long time ago so he could say the words without them hurting too much. "And then, a few years later my mom met a really great guy. She married Pops and along came Dani...the little sister...or the speed demon as she's affectionately known."

Gabriella laughed and Jake decided that he really liked the sound. He wondered what else he could do to make her laugh.

"Your mother sounds like an amazing woman," Gabriella said. "To raise four boys like that."

Jake smiled. "Yeah, she was...she is, I mean." He bit his lip. "I guess sometimes I forget how hard it must have been on her. She made it seem so...effortless."

"That's what mothers do," Gabriella said with another glance at her daughter. "You don't want your children to worry, so you do your worrying in private." Jake sensed she had some worries of her own. He wondered how she'd feel if he told her that he thought he might want to take care of those for her, every single one of them.

"I guess they do," Jake agreed. He didn't know what to say next. He had had a dozen different witty things lined up but they had disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"Your Pops sounds like quite a guy too," Gabriella said.

Jake grinned. "Oh yeah, he's the best," he said with real enthusiasm. He decided that he had been handed an opening and he intended to put it to good use. "He took us all on without hesitation. He loves us all like we're his own – even my oldest brother, and that's a miracle believe me." _See, Gabriella? There are still decent guys in the world and I've learned from the best._

Jake blinked. Where had that come from?

He paused. He knew what he was going to say and why he was going to say it. But how would she react? And why did he care so much? "So...when Rebecca is out of here, what do you two do for fun?"

"We make tents in the living room, we watch silly movies, and we like to visit the zoo – all that boring stuff."

"Aw, that's not boring, that's the stuff kids remember," Jake said. "I've got some great memories of all of us doing stuff like that." Then he snorted. "Of course, once my sister Dani came along most of us spent our time rescuing her from one disaster or another."

Gabriella laughed and Jake started thinking furiously about his most amusing "Dani almost killed herself" stories. He had a lot of material. "How old is she now?" Gabriella asked with what seemed like real interest.

"Uh, she's ten years younger than me, so she turned twenty this summer. Our birthdays are just a few days apart." There, now she knew how old he was and he'd done it with finesse. He was Mr. Cool, no matter what his brothers said. He knew from her records that she was twenty-six. It might have been cheating, but he couldn't help what he remembered.

"So you're thirty, huh?" Gabriella said with a grin.

"My oldest brother keeps telling me that my metabolism's going to declare war on me soon, so I'm trying to eat all the junk food I can." He paused. "Actually, I'm pretty crazy about the corn dogs at the zoo." _Another flawless segue_, he congratulated himself.

"Are you now?"

Jake nodded. "They're like the best in the world."

"They're pretty good," she agreed.

"They're even better if you chase them with cotton candy and a churro." He closed his hands around the useless chart in his hands. It was camouflage and nothing more. "So I was wondering if maybe you and Rebecca might like to go to the zoo with me sometime. You know, so I don't have to eat alone."

A small voice whispered, "I like the penguins best."

Gabriella's smile turned blinding as she looked at her daughter. "Well, the sleeping beauty has woken up."

Rebecca pointed at Jake. "I 'member you."

"I remember you too, sweetheart," he said, leaning down and getting closer. "It's not often a real princess comes to my emergency room."

Rebecca giggled and buried her face in her hands, suddenly struck by a case of shyness. "I'm not a princess," she insisted.

"Oh, I think you are," Jake said. He bowed low. "Greetings, Princess Rebecca." She laughed again and it was almost as sweet as Gabriella's laugh. He leaned down again and confided in Rebecca. "I was asking your mom here if maybe you two lovely ladies would like to go to the zoo with me and see some penguins and eat some junk food."

Rebecca's eyes flashed to her mother and Gabriella smiled. "I think we'd like that." Gabriella answered for them.

Reaching up, Rebecca rubbed a strand of Jake's dark hair between her fingers. "You've got girl hair," she noted.

Gabriella tried to stifle her laughter but wasn't quite successful. Jake reached back and pulled out the tie that bound it, letting it fall free around his shoulders. "Nah," he said. "This is prince hair here."

Rebecca shot him a doubtful look.

Jake tugged lightly on one of her curls. "This _here_ is princess hair."

The little girl seemed both surprised and enchanted at that possibility. Then she took a closer look at him. "Are you a giant?"

"Rebecca!" Gabriella was embarrassed, Jake could tell, but he just laughed.

"No," he said. "They just grow them big in my family." Then he had to fight the urge to groan because the innuendo had not been intended but now it was out there. "Uh, my brothers are all really tall too," he added hastily.

Gabriella snickered but he couldn't look at her. He was too busy trying to kick his own ass.

"I'm almost four," Rebecca said suddenly. "My birthday is right before Santa comes, isn't it, Mama?"

"It sure is," Gabriella agreed.

"Oh well, I had no idea you were so grown up," Jake teased.

"It's okay," Rebecca forgave him generously. Jake smiled and tugged on her hair one more time before turning to Gabriella.

"Yeah, so I know this wasn't...uhm..._entirely_ appropriate asking you here, but I really would like to take you and Rebecca to the zoo – or anywhere else you wanted to go."

Way to go, James, sound like a desperate moron. Go Jake!

Gabriella gave him a slow sweet smile that made his toes curl inside his size fifteen shoes. "We'd like that," she said.

Jake flashed them both a relieved smile. "That's great, wonderful..." He pulled out a business card and hastily scrawled his personal numbers on the back. "Here, call me any time." He looked at Rebecca. "I'll be checking in on the princess but you never know." He shrugged. He winked at the little girl. "Besides, she'll be going home to her castle soon."

Gabriella hesitated a moment. "Would it be all right if I gave you my number too?"

Jake couldn't imagine anything better so he just nodded like an idiot and pulled out his cell phone. Gabriella told him her number and he programmed it in. "So yeah, I've gotta get back to work," he said after a moment of silence. "I'll be back later. Maybe I could bring you some lunch?"

Gabriella looked surprised but then she nodded. "That would be great."

"Good, it's a date – er, I mean, I'll – okay, I'll bring you something." Jake was stammering and he knew it.

"I look forward to it."

A moment later, Jake was out in the hallway leaning against the door, trying to gather his thoughts. Before heading back to the ER, he pulled out his phone again. A couple of rings later, he heard a familiar voice. "Hey, Jake! What's up?"

"Hey, Pops," Jake said. "I just...I just wanted to say hi and see how you and Mom are doing."

Pops laughed. "We're up to no good, as usual. We're going to see Dani this weekend and see what sort of trouble she's gotten herself into now."

Dani was attending the University of Florida. She was set to graduate next year, a full year ahead of schedule. Like everything else, Dani was in a hurry to get her education. "Have fun with that. Tell her I love her."

"Will do," Pops said. "Of course, she's got a phone too, Jake."

"Yeah, but she never answers it," Jake replied.

"Probably too busy going mudding," Pops admitted quietly. "Don't tell your mother." There was an unspoken conspiracy among them to keep some of Dani's more dangerous exploits from Bella. Jake had a feeling she knew more than she let on anyway.

His sister's fascination with all things that went fast had never diminished. She had just added getting absolutely filthy in the process to her agenda. "Yeah, that's not a conversation I want to have."

"Smart man," Pops agreed. "So...what's going on, Jake?"

Like always, Pops had a sixth sense. "Well, I met this woman..."

"Oh." That was all, but Pops managed to pack a lot of meaning into one syllable.

"Yeah, oh."

"What's she like?" Pops asked.

"She's...well, she's perfect is what she is," Jake said. "And she's got the cutest little girl I've ever seen in my life but if you tell Dani that I'll deny it."

"So that's how it is, huh?" Pops laughed. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Yeah, I think that's how it is," Jake sighed. "Anyway, I've gotta go."

"Okay," Pops said. "But if you want to talk, you know where I am."

"Yeah, Pops I know." Jake laughed. "I'm sure you'll be hearing from me. Give my love to Mom."

"Will do," Pops assured him. "Love you, Jake."

"Love you too."

Jake hung up, but he was smiling all the way back to the ER.


	47. Chapter 47: No Place Like Home

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: While I don't have any plans to write a whole Jake/Gabriella story, I will be doing more outtakes of them. This is one of them and is spoiler-ish in nature. Some of the dialogue between Jake and Gabriella is taken from a conversation between my middle son and his girlfriend (as reported to me by a son who shares WAY more than I want him to at times) just before she met us for the first time. It is not intended to offend; it's just the way we act in this family. :p**_

**#47 No Place Like Home**

Gabriella Ross was not, by nature, the nervous sort. She was many things, but anxious wasn't one of them. She had been a good, if not brilliant student. She had been an obedient daughter, for the most part. As a child, she played outside in the summer, and helped her mother bake in the winter. She had learned to knit, but hated it. She had learned to cross-stitch and liked that. She loved to read and spent many hours happily curled up with a good book and a cup of hot cocoa. She found joy in the simple things and was not given to an excess of nerves or worry.

She battled her weight and finally, on her twenty-fourth birthday figured out that she was not destined to _ever_ be a size two. And she was okay with that, and finally learned to appreciate her curves and womanly appeal, though that didn't stop her from sometimes cursing her ass. She thought her eyes were her best feature, being large and dark and full of intelligence.

She was the only child of solidly middle-class, church going parents. Her father had been a mailman and had worked hard every day of his life. Her mother had been a bookkeeper, who somehow managed to always make Gabriella feel as if their world centered around her. Her father had died of a stroke before he turned forty-five. He had been too young to leave them and Gabriella and her mother had felt his loss keenly. Her mother had followed a year later, a heart attack the doctors said. A broken heart, was Gabriella's opinion.

Then a year after she lost her mother she had been Bobby. He had been charming and suave and kind of cocky. He had been a fast talker and handsome and dressed like no one she had known before. She had dated a few boys from church, but they didn't appeal to her on any deeper level. Bobby was exciting and dangerous, and like many young women she found that appealing. For a while.

He said he was a man who was going places, but Gabriella was never very clear on exactly where he was going or how he intended to get there. But she found him attractive and she enjoyed the novel idea of a man pursing her. Before she knew it she was in his bed and then not long after, a set of double lines on a pregnancy test had confirmed her fears.

She was pregnant.

Gabriella cried when she told Bobby; her hormones were already wreaking havoc with her emotions but she was sure he'd pull her close and ask if she wanted to get married in the church where she'd worshipped with her parents or at the courthouse. There was no contest for her, it would be at the church in which she'd grown up. It was unexpected, but not a disaster. Sometimes life didn't go as planned. Gabriella had learned to roll with the punches.

Instead, Bobby had started spouting off nonsense about how "it wasn't his" and the next thing she knew, she had been showing him the door. She didn't need him around that badly, and she figured that she'd rather do it alone than put up with his nonsense. Gabriella wasn't the nervous sort, but she _had_ inherited a spine of steel and the courage to stay true to her convictions. Another woman might have ended the problem before it caused too much difficulty, and Gabriella wouldn't begrudge them. Everyone had to live with their own conscience, as her mother had taught her.

But_ she_ intended to have her baby and she would do it alone. Weaker women than she had managed, and stronger women too. She had a feeling she could do the same.

It hadn't been easy by any means. She had gone into labor in the middle of the night, but a woman from her church had accompanied her and held her hand and wiped her tears, giving her strength when her own failed her. Her church family had supported her with their love and affection, even through the dark months of trying to come to terms with just how much her life had changed. Having lost a mother and father, she found joy in her daughter.

Gabriella had named her daughter after her mother; she had a feeling her mother would have approved and been thankful.

So Gabriella and little Rebecca created a home. Gabriella worked hard and it took her three years to complete one year's worth of college, but the long nights of studying and the long days of sitting in a cubicle did not deter her. If it took her a decade to get her degree, then so be it. She had a purpose, and someone for whom she wanted to build a better life. The same woman who had been at her side when Rebecca was born had volunteered to watch her while Gabriella went to class and work. In return, she asked only that Gabriella help her sometimes with her cooking and some cleaning as her arthritis pained her, especially in the winter. She was an older woman, but had enough energy to keep a careful watch over Rebecca.

Rebecca was a good baby, unusually happy and of a sunny disposition. She seldom cried, she slept through the night early on. Gabriella liked to think it was her mother watching over them, trying to make things easier on her.

And so their lives went on. Gabriella thought she had it all figured out and knew exactly where her life was going.

Then it all changed.

On the day of the car accident, as they were taken to the hospital, Gabriella had been sure that the day would go down as one of the least favorites in her life. Slippery, icy roads had always scared her and now she knew why. Seeing her baby bleeding and crying in the wreckage of the car had shaved ten years off her life, she was sure. Never mind that her daughter's wails were a sign that she was alive and breathing well. No, a mother's fear was deep and instant and instinctual. It would not be silenced with mere logic.

Then they had arrived at the hospital and she and Rebecca had been put in the same room, but they tried to divide them with a curtain. Rebecca's plaintive calls had ripped Gabriella's heart out of her chest, causing her far more pain than the few cuts and bruises she carried.

But in an instant, her fear had been eased away. A big, warm hand was closed around hers and she heard him say, "Open that curtain. The little girl needs to see her mother. That'll calm her down faster than anything we could do."

She had looked up and seen an angel. Okay, not really an angel, but the bright medical lights had put a sort of halo around his silky dark hair and he was bigger than life, standing over her like that. It took a moment and a few blinks to bring the face into focus. So, her first impression was that of an angel, and not much would happen later to make her change her mind, though of course she never told him that. There are _some_ secrets a woman had to keep or their men got too full of themselves.

A man, so big and tall and solidly muscled that he might have been the Archangel Michael himself, stood at her side. She half expected to see him draw a sword and wings to unfurl at his broad back. His teeth were white and perfect against his tanned face. Strong cheekbones gave his face character, long black hair made him look like a hero from a bygone era.

"Let me go take a look at your daughter, okay?" he asked softly, his fingers a warm and soothing pressure. "And then I'll be right back to tell you everything."

She had nodded.

And that had been the moment that their lives had changed. He had arrived and made a place for himself in their little family. Rebecca adored him, Gabriella had come to appreciate his solid dependability, quirky sense of humor, warm heart, and gentle nature.

Now, six months later, she was about two minutes away from meeting his family. His very _large_ family. Her hand went to hair once more and she heard him laugh. "Relax, will you?" he admonished. "They'll love you. I promise."

Gabriella heaved a sigh and from the backseat she heard Rebecca say, "Yeah, Mom, relax."

Jake nudged her. "Listen to the kid, she's incredibly smart, just like her mother."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Gabriella teased.

He licked his lips. He knew what that did to her. Jake was playing dirty. "Stop it," she chided, giving him a light slap. "I'm already nervous."

He pulled up into the driveway and turned off the car. "What are you nervous about?" he asked.

"Yeah, Mom, what are you nervous about?" Rebecca had taken to parroting Jake. It was equal parts adorable and annoying. Today it was just annoying.

"What if they don't like me?" Gabriella murmured.

"You're wonderful, how could they help but love you?" Jake touched her cheek and then her lower lip. The man had a fascination with her mouth, she decided, which only elicited a blush as she remembered other times he had indulged that fascination.

"Will they mind about...?" Her eyes flashed toward the backseat.

Jake snorted. "Really? That's the _best_ you can do?" He rolled his eyes and looked back at Rebecca. "Your mommy's being very silly, princess."

Rebecca rolled her eyes too. The little mimic. "She does that sometimes."

"I know," Jake agreed.

Gabriella crossed her arms over her chest and gave a little humph. Then she noticed the curtain twitching at one of the windows and felt her heart race.

"What if..." She picked at the hem of her skirt, wondering if she was overdressed. Or underdressed.

But she knew what _really_ worried her.

"What if they aren't happy because I'm..." She made a face. "Not white." There. It was out in the open. The race question had never been an issue for them, but that didn't mean it would be the same for his family.

She expected Jake to take her seriously, instead he gave a dramatic gasp and put his hand over his heart and gaped at her. "What? You're not white! Oh my God! Why didn't you tell me?"

Rebecca giggled. "Mommy's brown, like me," she offered.

"And I'm..." Jake studied his hand with great deliberation. "I'm peach with underlying tones of russet."

"I can't tell you how much it scares me that you know those colors," Gabriella said.

Jake cradled her face in his hands. "Babe, I've got a niece who was born in China, a nephew who's biracial, a gay uncle, an aunt who is _tri-_racial, and I was raised by a man I love and respect that has got no genetic link to me _at all_. I think that we've covered every social spectrum in my immediate family alone. We're like the United Nations around here. Do you think that anyone in that house is going to be concerned about the color of your _skin_?"

Gabriella wanted to cry. She wanted to throw her arms around Jake and just sob from sheer relief and happiness. So she did. But just for a moment, because she was not a woman prone to tears, and then she was wiping her face and reassuring her daughter and the man who, for some unknown reasons, seemed to care about them both so very much.

"Okay, I'm done now," Gabriella said. "Crisis over."

Jake got out and zipped around to her side of the car and opened her door. Then he did the same for Rebecca, who knew to wait by now. She was becoming quite the little princess. She gave Jake a nod of her head and allowed him to kiss her hand. This was their thing, and Gabriella had given up trying to talk Jake out of it. He just told her that it was between the two of them and she needed to butt out. When Rebecca also told her to butt out, she had gotten the look that had had her apologizing in a hurry and Jake stifling his laughter. Gabriella had pretended to be annoyed with them both.

Then the door opened and a slender young woman with bright red hair was flying out of the house and launched herself at Jake. "Jakey!" she cried, wrapping her legs around him and attaching herself like a vine. Then she spotted Rebecca over his shoulder and let go immediately, sliding down him like he was a fireman's pole and landing with a thud right on his feet. Jake grunted but seemed to expect it.

She took Rebecca's hand and then tugged her into a quick embrace. "I'm Dani," she said. "And I've got so many absolutely _wonderful_ stories to tell you about Jake here when he was a little boy and very, very naughty."

Rebecca giggled, shocking Gabriella because usually her daughter was kind of shy around new people. And Dani was quite the dynamo.

Dani grinned up at Gabriella. "Your baby girl is as beautiful as you are." She tilted her head. "And you strike me as intelligent too." Then she stood up and leaned in close, giving Gabriella a hug as she did so. "So what the hell are you doing dating _this_ loser?" And then she punched Jake's shoulder.

Then the rest of the Cullen/James clan was spilling out of the door and there were just so many of them that their faces and names spun around in her head. She found herself drawn in, following in their wake and helpless to do otherwise. There were hugs and kisses and good-natured teasing for and from everyone. Rebecca was soon playing with Jake's nieces and nephews, and Gabriella didn't see much of her for the rest of the day. 

Later, she wouldn't really recall anything in particular that they talked about. All she would remember was the overwhelming feeling of warmth and welcome. It was the feeling of family...and home.


	48. Chapter 48: Tall, Dark, and Skittish

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**# 48 Tall, Dark, and Skittish**

Abby Harrison was bored. Not bored with life, because she honestly didn't see how such a thing was possible, but bored with her day. She only had one appointment on her books, which meant that the day stretched before her endlessly. She much preferred when she was dashing from one place to the next, hoping to make it on time. She thrived on the stress and thrill of it all.

But today? One freaking appointment.

Abby hated being bored. She'd rather be frantic than bored.

She hadn't taken the appointment, rather, the receptionist Cathy had. And Cathy hadn't made any extra notes that indicated someone she thought might be difficult to work with, was wishy-washy, or just a lookey-loo. As Abby sat in the real estate office and contemplated her _boring_ day, she amused herself by creating stories about the "S. James" on her books.

First, Abby decided that S stood for Sondra. Sondra was in love with a man who was part of the Saudi Royal Family. The couple was desperately in love, but tragically, would never be allowed to marry. The homes that Abby would show them today were possible locations for their little love nest.

Or...

S stood for Soho. Soho James was an artist, misunderstood and underappreciated like most geniuses of his time. He was looking for a place to paint in peace, create the masterpieces that would only be truly appreciated after his death. She had to keep in mind that the tortured artist just might just to make his final exit in the house he'd buy today. Abby could picture the house being featured in some book about the tragic Sojo James. So the house had to have great curb appeal.

Or...

S stood for Serenity. Serenity was an assassin on a covert assignment, looking for a base of operations and-

The door opened and in walked about six-and-a-half feet of tall, dark and handsome. Abby gaped, pretty sure that she drooled a little bit. She knew for sure that her girly parts, sadly neglected lately, stood up and said, "Now what was that?"

He approached her desk even as Abby got to her feet. TDH held out his hand. "Hello," he said quietly. "I'm Seth James. I believe I have an appointment with Abigail Harrison."

Or, she decided abruptly, S could stand for "Sex god that I want to bend me over my desk and impregnate me with his big, beautiful children."

Abby liked that option. A lot.

She gave him a slow smile, the one that anyone who knew her would have recognized as her "I'm going to separate this one from the herd" smile. Abby held out her hand. It was the same smile she got when she was about to close a deal or had found a man who was worthy of her time. The first happened with great regularity, the second? Not so much. Her friends called her picky, but Abby preferred the term discerning. "I'm Abby," she said. She knew her voice was a giant plus in the column of personal attributes. It was velvety, smoky and sexy without sounding like she needed to carry around her own personal supply of oxygen. She had been told she would have a very promising career in radio, but she liked watching people too much for that.

She watched with satisfaction as Seth James blinked, obviously stunned by the very big voice coming out of her small body. Good. It helped to keep them off balance. She could already tell that this one was skittish. He was going to make a run for it at some point, but she'd run him down, rope him, and brand him.

In fact, she was pretty damned sure she was going to keep him. Forever. It would all be over before he knew what exactly had happened.

As she studied him with frank appreciation, the tips of his ears went a dull red. Abby wanted to lick them. Instead, she licked her lips. "So...are you a newcomer to Charleston?" she asked as she grabbed her purse.

"No, well, I've never lived here, but I've been a frequent visitor," he replied. As they walked toward the door, she noticed he had a slight limp. It made her want to settle that cute backside of his on a couch so that she could bring him food and drink – and then have her dirty way with him. She wouldn't hurt him. Much. And she would kiss it all better. Twice. Abby glanced up at him, also noticing for the first time the scar that ran from just beside his left eye to the corner of his delectable mouth.

Honestly, it was a good thing he had that scar or he'd just be too pretty. As it was, he was... Abby licked her lips again. "So, will Mrs. James be joining us?"

His lips quirked up adorably, but he just shook his head. "There's no Mrs. James."

Good to know, Abby mused. Very good indeed.

Abby didn't even try to act like she hadn't been scoping out his status, so she just grinned at him. "Why don't you just ride with me?" she offered. _Or ride _me_, however you want to work it_.

"Uh, thanks, that would be easier, I think."

They got into her car and Abby put on her seatbelt, leaned over and got her sunglasses out of the glove compartment. She might have checked his chest and abs out on the way, but that was beside the point.

"Are you moving here for business?" she asked Seth.

"Yeah," he answered with a nod. "My Pops owns a bar in Fayetteville, and I'm here to open another location in Charleston. This will be my home base of operations. If it works, then we're thinking about opening a third location." He shrugged. "I'm in charge of that. Pops won't leave Mom for long and I didn't have anything hold me there." He shook his head. "He's still got it bad for her and I didn't mind, so..."

"That's sweet," Abby said. "I love seeing older couples who have been together for decades that are still all over each other." _Like I want to be all over you, Seth James_.

"Then they would put you over the moon," Seth promised with obvious amusement.

"Fayetteville, huh?" Abby asked. "Any chance your Pops is Army?"

Seth nodded. "He was, but he's retired now. My Dad was Army too." He looked out the window. "He died." That was it.

Abby glanced at him. "In the war?" she guessed.

Seth turned and gave one little nod. Abby's smile was sad this time. "Mine too," she told him softly. "I was little. Even before...he wasn't home a lot. I don't remember him really – certain memories are really clear, others..." she shrugged.

"I was ten," Seth explained. "I remember him." He met her eyes. "But Pops raised us, so..." He shrugged again. "He's our Pops," he said as if that explained it all. And for Abby, it did.

Something warm clicked between them, a shared experience that most people couldn't relate to or understand. Her smile was even warmer when she looked at him again, and some of his shyness faded.

They pulled up into the driveway of the first house and she grabbed the information on the house. A few moments later, she was unlocking the door and leading him inside. "Okay, this is the smallest of the bunch, two bedrooms, one and a half bath, no association fees, great kitchen, walk-in closet in the master..." She took one look at Seth and knew this wasn't it.

She was good at what she did. "Okay, I can see it's not doing it for you."

He flashed her an apologetic smile and Abby wondered how many panties had dropped because of that move. A lot, she suspected. "Sorry," he said.

"Don't apologize," she assured him. "It's either the house or it isn't. I'll show you houses for months if I have to." She grinned at him, kind of hoping that would be the case.

They spent all afternoon looking at houses. Seth wasn't particularly demanding, but she could see that he hadn't fallen in love with anything. Sometimes that annoyed her, but in this case she was actually glad. She would simply have to spend more time with this beautiful, quiet man and make sure he got the home he wanted. Then maybe he would let her cook him some dinners there, and break in the new bed.

As it got closer to dinner time, she asked, "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. How about I show you some of the local culture and we'll grab a bite to eat?"

"Sounds great," he said, rubbing his stomach. Just then his phone went off. He glanced at the display and groaned. "Gotta take this, he apologized.

If it was a girlfriend, Abby thought she just might barf. Seth James was hers; he just didn't know it yet.

"Hello, princess," Seth said and Abby's heart sank. Seth laughed. "I'm sure Jake didn't mean it." More talking. "Now, you know I love you." Abby felt her stomach clench. "No, I won't tell Mom that you need another dirt bike."

Abby felt something relax inside of her.

"Yeah, I know it was worth a try," Seth said. "You did? That's great. Did you like volunteering? How many dogs did you bathe?"

Talking from the other end and Abby caught a snippet. It was a girl's voice, excited and rushed.

"Boys are weird, they sure are." He laughed again. "Yes, sometimes they stink too." He shook his head. "No, I haven't found a house yet. Yes, I'm sure you can visit me and go to the beach. No, I'm not sure Mom would appreciate you trying parasailing, whatever that is." Abby snorted. Then Seth glanced at her, looking oddly ill at ease. "No, I don't." He sighed. "Because I don't." A groan. "Dani, honestly, I think Mom puts you up to this. No I don't have a girlfriend. I'm too damned busy. I've got to go." Then he shook his head and heaved a sigh. "No, I'm not mad. I love you too. Tells Pops I'll call him this evening."

Seth hung up and flashed another panty dropper smile. "Sorry about that. It was my kid sister. She couldn't reach any of my brothers so I was the chosen victim." He ran his fingers through his hair, which looked very, very soft. It was severely cut, almost military in style, but she wanted to run her fingers through it too, just brush them over the top of his head and then down his neck and...

Abby laughed. He looked so adorable when he was frustrated. "How many brothers are there to harass?"

"I have three brothers," Seth explained. "One older, two younger, and then there's my sister," he said. "She's the baby."

"Let me guess, she's got you all wrapped around her little finger?" Abby ventured.

"And then some," Seth admitted.

"You're lucky," Abby said. "I'm an only child. My mom and I are really close; it's always been the two of us since my father died. I was lucky though, I've got the best mom in the world, so it was okay."

They were quiet for a moment but it wasn't at all uncomfortable. "So..." she finally said. "Let's get some food, yes?"

"Yes," Seth agreed even as his stomach rumbled. He rubbed it and looked embarrassed.

"You're a big guy," Abby said. "You need a lot of fuel." _And you're going to need even more fuel when I get you in bed_, she promised silently.

Seth gave a shy little smile that would still have dropped panties in a three mile radius. "I guess," he admitted. "But only if you let me pay. Pops would have my ba – Pops wouldn't be happy if I let a lady pay."

Abby laughed and knew she should insist that as the client, Seth couldn't pay. This, however, was hopefully not going to remain a client dinner, so she gave in gracefully. "You've got a deal, Seth."

_And you've also gotten yourself a woman, but we'll talk about that later._


	49. Chapter 49: It's Always the Quiet Ones

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: I've got at least two more Seth/Abby chapters written. And Seth is twenty-five in this one. I've got outtakes planned for all of the kids. I've got a Sam outtake written but I probably won't post it until I've posted the Seth/Abby outtakes. Abby kind of owns me right now. :p**_

**# 49 It's Always the Quiet Ones**

Abby stared at herself in the mirror, taking an objective inventory. She had been dating the delectable Seth James for almost a month now and had still to lure him into her bed. It was not for a lack of trying. Two nights ago, they had been on her couch, their hips moving and putting all the right things in all the right places, and she had been sure that it was finally going to happen. Then Seth had politely put an end to it, claiming an early meeting and left her to take matters into her own hands. Which she had done. Twice.

If she hadn't felt rampant proof of his attraction to her, she might have thought she just didn't "do it" for him. But it was obvious that, whatever her downfalls might be, what she _did_ have was enough to get Seth worked up.

She considered herself a patient person –

Wait, okay that wasn't really true. Still, she _had_ been patient. For her at least.

Nevertheless, after twenty-five days, she was ready to move it to the bedroom. Or the couch. Or over the dining room table for that matter. Hell, at this point, she'd settle for up against a wall, quick and dirty.

Seth was due to arrive soon. He had ended up buying a house about ten minutes away from her apartment. He was closing on the house next week but had said he was going to stop by there for a quick look at the fence before coming to her place. It was older, in need of some TLC, but it had big, airy rooms and was in the middle of a lovely, family oriented neighborhood. Abby liked what that indicated about Mr. James and his future plans. She fully intended to be a part of that future, a very big part.

The plan for this _evening_, however, was for them to go bowling, grab some dinner, and then maybe hit the batting cages where she would hand TDH his ass. Instead, Abby decided that she was going to get her hands on that ass, and not just through a frustrating layer of denim.

No, she was done with that. Tonight she was going to get TDH out of those low-slung jeans of his and right into hers. Abby was a woman with a plan and that plan was going into effect now.

She added a bit more eyeliner, nothing too extravagant or he would know something was up, a hint of shimmer to her lips and then pulled her thick, straight hair back into a clip just to give him something to do later. Besides, being up for a while would give her hair a nice bounce. Men were big fans of bounce.

She adjusted her robe, knowing that wearing nothing but the robe and a pair of panties was kind of cheating. But desperate times called for drastic action and Abby was all about results. Excuses were for the weak. Action was for the strong.

About fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rang. Seth was punctual, as usual. She took a moment to get to the door and then assumed a confused expression before opening it. Seth looked at her robe and frowned.

"Oh God!" Abby said, clutching at her robe, and pushing her boobs up in the process. "Did I get the time wrong?"

Seth, always the gentleman, immediately took the blame. "No, I probably got here early."

Abby would have smirked but that would have given the game away so she just smiled sweetly and let him in. "Whatever the reason, I'm glad you're here. It won't take me long to get ready."

Seth's eyes bounced to her breasts and then he looked down at his feet and swallowed hard. So far, so good.

"You want something to drink?" she asked, heading into the kitchen. If her man's eyes were where she thought they were, he was getting the newsflash that she was wearing a pair of bright red excuse-for-panties. They showed quite nicely through the thin silk of the robe.

She turned and -

Yes, his eyes were exactly where she wanted them. His eyes shot guiltily back to hers. "Uh yeah..." He cleared his throat. "Whatever you've got."

Abby picked up the remote she had strategically placed on the little breakfast bar and clicked on the television as Seth sat down. Exactly as she had planned, the movie "Love Actually" was on. Well, she had checked the guide after all. A girl had to plan spontaneity sometimes.

"Oh," she said with a little laugh. "This is one of my favorites!"

She brought him a beer and sat down on the couch, seemingly engrossed in the movie and distracted from getting ready. "I love these older movies, don't you?"

Seth's eyes were on the slight gap in her robe where the flesh of her thigh was revealed. He didn't even hear her question, Abby thought with satisfaction. She let it slide and settled back into the corner, her eyes on the screen.

She heard Seth take a gulp of his beer and then his hands were clutching at the beer bottle like a lifeline while he kept darting glances her way. After about fifteen minutes of torturing the man, Abby looked at him and snuggled close. "Would you mind if we just watched this and _then_ went out to dinner? I'm not really in a bowling mood, if that's okay with you."

Seth nodded jerkily and kind of squirmed on the couch. He grabbed a pillow and put it in his lap, making a big show of resting his beer bottle on it. That might have been convincing except Abby had seen his erection. She had discovered a few weeks ago that her man was proportionate – in every way.

If that didn't restore a woman's faith in true love and soul mates, then what could?

She sighed happily and put her head on his shoulder. He gulped down the last of the beer and leaned forward with a grimace to put the empty bottle on the coffee table. "You okay, babe?" Abby asked with concern, even though inside she was giving herself a mental fist bump.

"I'm good," Seth said in a strangled voice.

Abby pulled him in for a kiss, a perfectly innocent kiss with a minimal amount of tongue. It was Seth who escalated it, and Abby considered that a very good promise of things to come.

She had been sure it would take more work to get him in the position she wanted him in, which was horizontal and either over or under her. Instead, Seth surprised her again and took the initiative and it wasn't very long at all before she was tucked beneath his big, warm body and her hands down his pants squeezing his ass.

The man had a spectacular ass. She could spend days worshipping it.

After several long minutes, Seth pulled back, breathing hard. His shirt was undone and Abby got an eyeful of washboard abs and the hint of a dark happy trail leading to the promised land. She twirled her fingers in that hair and felt the ripple of his muscles. "Abby?" he croaked.

"Take me to bed already," she groaned and latched onto his mouth. Seth gave an approving moan and lifted her up. She helped by wrapping her arms and legs around him. The position conveniently put his erection right where she wanted it most. Well...almost.

They both were panting by the time he crashed into the bedroom door. Abby giggled as her back hit it, and then reached down and twisted the knob. Seth carried her to the bed and they fell onto it together.

"God I want you so fucking bad," Seth said as he slipped the robe from her shoulder. "You've been teasing me," he accused and then his lips closed around a nipple and Abby promptly forget whatever brilliant comeback she had planned.

"Get naked," Abby ordered.

Seth got to his feet and smirked. Then he slid his shirt off his shoulders and let it drift to the floor. He nudged his shoes off and damn if his feet weren't sexy too. That was simply unfair. She had already undone his belt, so he just whipped it out of the loops and gave it a little toss. Abby watched in amazement as she realized that Seth was giving her a little show.

It was always the quiet ones who surprised you.

His thumbs hooked in his jeans and he stopped, giving her the smile that had moistened her panties and made them an unnecessary hindrance. His eyes narrowed as he stared at her on the bed. Nothing shielded her from his eyes but the red scrap of cloth between her legs.

The jeans slid down his long, long legs, revealing powerful thighs with a dusting of dark hair. Only his boxer briefs remained, and they were tight enough to give Abby an eyeful. Oh my yes, her boy was packing.

Seth reached in and grabbed his impressive package and Abby licked her lips, her eyes darting to his. She might have whimpered. Slowly, tortuously and agonizingly slowly, the boxers followed the jeans.

Then Seth was standing before in all his glory, fully erect and jutting out proudly. This time she was _sure_ she whimpered. He knelt on the bed, his hand lazily stroking his dick. Seth in bed was a revelation. He wasn't shy between the sheets.

Abby got to her knees and pressed herself against him. The moan he gave reverberated through both of them in all the right ways. He reached up and freed her hair, delving his hands into it and twisting it around his fingers. He gave a little tug that had her writhing and shaking. God, the man had a magic touch. Her hands closed around his dick and he gave her the lead. "Oh yeah, baby..." he said softly. She kissed the space between his collarbones and he gave a hiss of appreciation. He thrust into her hands slowly, languidly.

His fingers trailed down her belly and slipped beneath her panties. "You're so wet for me," he murmured. Apparently, Seth was only shy _out_ of the bedroom, Abby thought with dazed amusement. Then he tugged at the panties and she shifted for him and the panties were history.

Suddenly she wondered exactly who had done the seducing. Once more, his long fingers were between her thighs, moving slowly, exploring every inch of her. "You're so beautiful," he whispered.

Seth lifted his fingers to his lips and licked at them. "And you taste like heaven," he added.

Abby knew she was a goner.

Slowly, Seth urged her back on the bed and then gave her a light push and cushioned her fall so that she landed in his arms. His mouth trailed up her throat and he gave careful attention to every bit of skin he could reach. "I want to be inside you, Abby," he said.

"I want you inside of me too," she managed to gasp. "Now."

"You covered?" Seth asked, his fingers toying with her, stroking, sliding, teasing. He slowly inserted one finger and stroked, then added another. Abby felt herself teetering on the edge.

"I'm safe," she said.

"Me too," Seth replied. "But I've got a condom in my wallet. Let me get it."

For a moment, she felt a little disappointed. But when Seth reached over and grabbed his jeans, then withdrew the wallet and got a condom, he gave her sheepish smile. "I've always used a condom, but my last partner was..." He shrugged. "Just before I moved here so only about six weeks ago."

It really was the quiet ones who fooled you.

"Are you still...?" Abby had to know.

"Oh God, no!" Seth explained. Then he smiled. "There's only you. That's...it was more friendly than anything else."

"Good enough for me," she said and grabbed the condom from his hand. She had it opened in a heartbeat and then she settled it over the tip of his cock. "May I?" Abby asked teasingly.

Seth just groaned and thrust his hips forward.

Abby rolled it down his length and then they were back on the bed and Seth was settling between her thighs. His hand was guiding his dick to her entrance. He paused there. "I'm not going to last the first time. I've been thinking about doing this since the first time I saw you. I wanted to bend you over that fucking desk and see what kind of panties you were wearing before I buried my cock inside of you. So this is going to be fast and furious, love. I'm too worked up, baby."

"So we'll go for longevity in round two," she hissed, feeling like she couldn't catch her breath. The images his words evoked had her worked up even further. Damn, the man knew how to talk the talk. His words were as much a seduction as his luscious lips and dangerous fingers.

Seth laughed but it turned into a groan as he thrust into her, apparently unable to wait any longer. He threw his head back, revealing the strong, masculine lines of his throat. A moment later, he was pistoning back and forth, his powerful lunges making Abby feel delicate but cherished, as if he was well aware of the power of his body but only wanted to use it to bring her pleasure. Then he lowered his head and licked and sucked at her breasts. He knew her favorite spots already, she thought.

That was pretty much her last coherent thought.

"Can't...wait..." Seth ground out between clenched teeth. "Please...Abby..." His mouth lowered again.

He nipped at her breast, a light clamping of his teeth accompanied by a powerful suction, and that was enough to send Abby rocketing over the edge. He felt her squeezing him and he followed with a shout.

The quiet ones weren't so quiet in bed, Abby thought with a smile.

Later, cradled in his big arms, Abby ran her fingers over his chest. She knew that the scars were from the accident that had almost taken his life when he was a teenager. They were a reminder that life could be short and you had to take happiness when and where you could. Seth made her happy. She intended to make him happy too.

He was sleeping now, worn out from round two, which_ had_ lasted longer, much longer. She traced his scars as he slept, thankful that he had made it. She couldn't imagine her life without Seth in it.

Somehow, between S. James walking into her office and Seth James taking her body, he had claimed her heart. She kissed one of the scars over his ribs and closed her eyes.

She gave a little snort of laughter as she remembered Seth's lack of shyness when it came to sex. Her man, the sex god.


	50. Chapter 50: An Independent Woman

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#50 An Independent Woman**

Abby didn't let much make her nervous. But she fully admitted that she was nervous. The pregnancy test had confirmed what she had suspected for about ten days now.

She was officially knocked up with the sex god's big, beautiful baby.

She was thrilled about that fact, incredibly and undeniably excited. She was also so terrified that it felt like the room was spinning and she was about to hurl. Of course, that could be the pregnancy, she conceded. The symptoms seemed to be pretty much the same.

So...how to break the news?

Five months ago, they had stopped using condoms – at Seth's suggestion. Apparently, they had been a little premature in that decision, even if Abby had been supposedly "covered" in the area of birth control. Now...well, there was a good chance that Seth wouldn't believe she hadn't gotten pregnant on purpose. Abby, however, was as confused as Seth was inevitably going to be about exactly how that had come about. It seemed as if those 1-2 percent failure rates were the God's honest truth – and they just happened to fall into that miniscule category. Lucky them! Maybe, Abby thought, she should be a lottery ticket since she seemed to be beating the odds lately.

Now she was unexpectedly pregnant with the baby of a man she loved and who loved her. But sometimes love wasn't enough. Sometimes a person panicked. And they ran. So what was he going to say when he got the news that they had a child on the way?

As she had done most of her life, Abby was doing things out of order. Following a rigid plan had never been high on her list of things to do with her day. Her mother said that somewhere along the way, Abby had developed an aversion for doing what she was supposed to do when she was supposed to do it. Apparently, she got it from her father. At least, that's what her mother always said.

Abby smiled at the thought of her mother. As soon as she gave Seth the news, she was going to call her mother. No matter how the circumstances ended up, her mother was going to be absolutely thrilled. Depending on how things went tonight, Abby was going to need her mother's help a little or a lot. Abby sincerely hoped it was just a little.

Even though she was twenty-nine years old, and an independent woman damn it, she really hoped she wasn't going to raise this baby on her own. She had a pretty good idea that Seth would want to be an involved father, but then again, people could always surprise you. It wasn't like she was expecting him to fall to one knee and ask her to marry him, but no yelling or screaming would be nice.

The truth was that this event hadn't been in the game plan. And it was a hell of a game changer.

For the rest of the afternoon, she fussed and fidgeted, cleaning the house one and half times (she didn't vacuum the house on the second round so didn't count it fully), changing her menu three times, and waffled over an outfit for an uncustomary thirty minutes. She had changed twice.

By the time Seth was due to arrive, Abby felt her nerves fluttering around in her stomach. This time she was pretty sure it was nerves and not the baby since the kid was only the size of a lima bean or something.

The doorbell rang and she ran to the door. She had planned to tell Seth in a very calm, composed manner after they had eaten the spectacular dinner she had prepared. Instead, the moment she saw him standing at her door, she burst into tears and wrapped around him like a spider monkey.

To say he was surprised might have been an understatement.

Seth pulled her away from him enough to get a look at her face and Abby was pretty sure she felt snot dripping down her upper lip. So she wiped it and then did the unthinkable and got rid of the evidence – on his shirt. It was half his fault she was an emotional wreck anyway. She had never been one of those graceful criers. Her nose got red and runny, her eyes got swollen, and her face got blotchy. It was one of the joys of being a red head.

"Abby, baby girl," Seth whispered, using his super secret, no-on-can-ever-know-this-shit name for her. "What's wrong? Are you sick? Did something happen to your mom?"

Abby gulped in some air, ready to lay it all out for him in lurid detail but found she couldn't form the words. Her usually agile brain had checked out for the day and didn't that just figure?

Seth wrapped her around him more securely (and how special did it make a woman feel to be carried by her man?) and walked them toward the couch with Abby still doing her spider monkey routine.

He sat down and then cradled her in his long, lean arms, his beautiful hands just running soothing patterns up and down her arms and legs, occasionally brushing over her hair, wiping away a fresh tear or two. He didn't press her to explain or keep asking her what was wrong. Instead, he simply held her.

It was exactly the thing she needed and she hadn't even known it.

Finally, the sobs dwindled down to pitiful sniffles and she buried her face in his chest, inconspicuously wiping her nose on him one more time for good measure. If a woman had to give a man news like this, she deserved to do it booger free, even if his shirt had to pay the price.

"Ready to talk?" Seth asked after a few moments. He cradled her face in his hands, his thumbs wiping at the path of her tears, concern evident in his beautiful brown eyes. "You're scaring me, Abs."

"I'm scared too," she admitted.

His brows drew into a straight line and she rubbed at the crease between them. "Talk to me...please...before I lose my ever loving mind." 

"I'm afraid you'll be mad at me," she admitted in a soft voice. She wanted to hide her face in his chest again but he urged her chin up and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

"Why would I be mad at you?" He smiled then, that slow sweet smile that he had given her the first night they'd gone to bed together. It was the smile that always had her tossing her panties over her shoulder and wrapping her legs around his waist.

"Because," she whispered. "Something's happened."

"Something bad?" he asked.

Abby shook her head and wondered where her usual brass balls had gone. Perhaps pregnant women were required to turn them in upon conception or something, because she certainly couldn't seem to find hers at the moment.

"Something good?" Seth asked with a little quirk of his lips.

"I think so, but I'm not sure you will," Abby finally said. She paused. "Unexpected, but good," she finally decided.

"Well, if you think it's good then I'm sure I will too," Seth told her.

"Before I tell you, I want you to know I didn't plan it this way," Abby said.

"Okay," Seth replied agreeably. "So tell me."

She was tempted to look away but she wasn't the look away kind of girl. "My period is ten days late." Seth's eyes got wide but at least he didn't jump up and dump her off his lap in his hurry to run out the door. "So today I took a test." She grimaced. "Actually, I took three tests." Seth seemed like he wanted to smile but Abby knew she must be delusional now. "And it was positive – all three were positive." She took a deep breath. "So...I'm pregnant."

Seth stared at her for a long moment and then shook his head. "No, I'm afraid you've got that wrong, Abby."

Her heart sank somewhere into the vicinity of her toes but then Seth's lips were against hers and it came zooming right back up to lodge in her throat.

"I read the tests myself, Seth. Even I could tell that the word positive meant, 'Hey lady, you're knocked up!'"

He smiled and shook his head again, kissing the corner of her mouth. "No, you're not knocked up _or_ pregnant."

Maybe the delusions were contagious, Abby thought. Poor baby, he had caught the crazy.

"Abby?"

"Yes?" She was distracted, wondering is she should be trying to contact a neurologist for Seth. Or maybe a psychiatrist. She'd make sure he got the best of care because he was her baby's daddy and she loved him.

"Abby, _you're_ not pregnant," he said again. Then he pulled her close and breathed in deep. "_We're_ pregnant, baby girl."

And that only started the tears again and this time she wasn't even subtle when she wiped her nose on his shirt. It was his own damned fault for being so perfect. Finally, he leaned back and put his hand in his pocket and then pulled it back out again.

"I was kind of nervous myself on my way over here," Seth said. Abby was confused again and wondered if she would spend the next eight months that way. "See, I had come to kind of a big decision over the last few weeks and I was finally going to put it into action."

"You were?"

Seth nodded. "And then when you told me about...our little surprise package..." His long fingers settled over her belly and a look of awe settled over his handsome face. "Well, I remembered something Pops said once about destiny and how sometimes we just had to go with it instead of trying to plan everything out." He looked at her. "He told me that usually the best things in life aren't the things we plan. They just find us." He held up his free hand. "See, tonight, I was going to give you this...if you'd have it, that is."

Abby took the little box and opened it up. The ring inside was perfectly perfect for Abby and she knew it. "So, I'm going to ask you to marry me just like I planned, and I don't want to hear any nonsense about only doing this because we're having a baby. Understood?" He settled a stern frown on her and she laughed, riding up the emotional roller coaster again.

She wriggled her fingers, asking him to put the ring there already. He plucked the ring from the box and touched it to the tip of her left ring finger. "Abby Harrison, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to make little red headed babies with you." They grinned at each other. "I want to grow old with you. So basically, I'm asking you for your forever. What do you say?"

She could only nod because her throat was still full of her heart and her heart was damned near bursting.

He slid the ring on and it fit, as she had suspected it would. Seth kissed her. "Now _that_ is how it's done, baby girl. You and me, we're efficient." He snapped his fingers and winked at her. "We covered the engagement and first kid all in one night. Damn...we're _good_."

She laughed and threw her arms around his neck and became the spider monkey again. And Seth was the tree she was intent on climbing.

Seth didn't seem to mind. At all.

They were getting married. They were having a baby. And all of that sounded just perfect.


	51. Chapter 51: He's No Puppy

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#51 He's No Puppy**

Seth tenderly placed his son Michael in his bed. The kid had been wired all day, mostly from the excitement of bringing his new baby brother home from the hospital. Michael had declared Harrison "kind of cute" but then asked if they could get a puppy instead.

He was kind of disappointed when his harried parents told him no.

Michael was four years old. Michael James was also a handful. Abby swore that he was mainlining Red Bull at night while the rest of them slept. He wasn't a bad child, he just _never_ stopped. He was the Energizer Bunny on Starbucks. A lot of people told him that he looked and acted like his Aunt Dani. He thought that was cool and hoped that one day she would teach him to race a car.

Abby had threatened to shave Dani bald is she even considered it. Since her hair was one of Dani's vanities, the threat was not without some weight. Seth knew it wasn't a threat – if Abby said it then it was a _promise_. More importantly, Dani knew it too.

Seth sighed as he watched Michael snuggle under the covers and reach up to rub a bright strand of his own hair between his fingers. Michael always did that when he was well and truly asleep. As a baby, he had pulled at his hair to stay awake. He wasn't quite that adamant against sleep anymore, but it definitely wasn't his favorite activity. Seth thought he got that from his Uncle Jake. Uncle Jake swore it wasn't true.

Abby was dozing since Harrison had fallen asleep, zonked from being born, meeting his brother, and coming to his new home. Seth hoped he would sleep for at least a couple of hours since Abby looked pretty tired and Seth didn't have what it took to feed Harrison.

He wandered downstairs and sat in the quiet-for-the-moment house. It was their first night all together under the same roof. He had the baby monitor with him, just in case Harrison woke up and could be persuaded to sleep a bit more and give his exhausted mother a rest.

It was still early, well, if you didn't have a new baby, so he called his Pops. He just felt a need to reconnect with the man who had raised him. Suddenly, having a second child seemed like a big deal. What had Mom and Pops done with five of them running around? How had they kept their sanity?

"Hey, Seth, how is everyone?" Pops asked. "Your mom is out with Alyssa, they're shopping or planning a world take over or something. I dunno. Could easily be either one."

"Hey," Seth said quietly, even though there was no chance of being heard by anyone upstairs. "We're all home. Even Michael's asleep, so I just wanted to call and check in and see if you're still coming this weekend."

"Wouldn't miss it," Pops said. "I had a hard time convincing your mother to wait until the weekend. She wants to get her hands on that new grandbaby _now_."

"He's a cutie," Seth said, rubbing at his eyes. New mothers weren't the only ones who got tired, he realized. "You know, I think he may end up with Mom's eyes. No way of telling just yet, but I have a feeling that he will."

"Your mom will be thrilled," Pops said with a laugh. "You know, Dani was just about unbearable when I told her you've got another redhead. Said something about taking over the family, one head at a time."

Seth laughed. "That would be Dani all right," he agreed. He heard snuffling over the baby monitor. "Listen, Pops, gotta go. I hear Harrison waking up."

"Talk to you later, son."

Seth hung up the phone and raced up the stairs as quickly as he could. Sometimes his leg bothered him, usually on very rainy or cold days, but he was in fighting form tonight. It took him only a few seconds to get to the baby's room.

His son was kicking his tiny legs, miniature fists flailing. Seth picked him up and began making soothing sounds. "Hey little buddy," he said. "Wake up alone, did you? Daddy's here, little guy." Big eyes wandered over Seth's face. Finally, Harrison got one fist near his mouth and began sucking loudly. "Oh, so that's how it is, is it? Are you starving to death?"

More sucking, and then the fists moved again and Harrison opened his mouth to scream out his protest at having lost it. Seth tucked him securely in his arms. "Come on, let's go find Mommy. She's got the good stuff, the real deal. I have to tell you, little man, I envy you. I surely do."

The baby squirmed and wriggled as if sensing what was coming. Abby was already sitting up, having sensed Harrison's hunger or waking up on her own or however she did it. Seth had told her once that she had some sort of radar in her head. Abby told him it wasn't in her head but in her boobs, because they'd ache around the time the baby should be eating.

Whatever it was, it worked.

Abby got up and settled into the nursing chair she had used with Michael. So far, the whole nursing deal was going more smoothly than it had with Michael. Abby had persevered, but there had been a lot of tears involved. Even _Michael_ had cried some. Eventually, however, they had figured it out. Harrison, however, seemed to take to it like a pro.

Seth handed her the baby and moved to get the diaper and wipes set up so he could change the baby after she fed him. A few moments later and Harrison was happily suckling, one little fist tucked up under his chin, one splayed on his mother's chest, and his legs sort of hanging down Abby's arm.

"How do you think Michael is adjusting?" Abby asked as Harrison nursed.

"Well," Seth admitted with a grin. "Harrison is no puppy, but he's okay." They shared a laugh remembering Michael's disappointment that a puppy-for-brother trade wasn't an option.

"That boy," Abby said fondly. "He gets it from your side of the family."

They looked at each other and said together, "Emmett." Abby snorted. "Dani," they added in sync.

Harrison gave a grunt and continued nursing, drawing his parents' attention. His bright head, with its downy red fluff, was quite a contrast to the pale flesh of Abby's breast. Seth sat down on the bed and just watched, enjoying the peace of the moment.

"He's a glutton," Abby noted with fond amusement, her fingers trailing through the red hair.

"Like his Daddy," Seth remarked with a grin.

Abby picked up the tiny hand resting on her breast and ran her fingertips over the long, slender fingers, marveling at their miniature size and absolute perfection. "You've got your musician here, Seth," she murmured. "You can teach him how to play the guitar, just like your Pops taught you."

Seth moved to sit near Abby so that he could touch them, feel that connection that they had and share in it. As much as he loved seeing his baby at her breast, sometimes he felt a little jealous too. But mostly, he just felt incredibly lucky.

"Maybe he'll want to play the piano," Seth mused. "He's got the hands for it, I think."

Abby shook her head. "Nope, I want him to be a guitar man, just like his Daddy."

Seth ducked his head in embarrassment. He still messed around a little and he and a few of his buddies sometimes did covers of classics at Mac's Place – Charleston. They were never going to be famous, or even make a living at it, but they enjoyed it. And their wives enjoyed hollering out their appreciation and wolf-whistling when the mood struck. Abby was the all-time champion whistler. She'd been known to make a whole bar fall silent. It even worked on Seth's brothers, a fact he considered a miracle. Abby packed a whole lot of sound into a tiny package.

Unable to help himself, Seth leaned in for a kiss. "You're so beautiful," he whispered. Even now, after more than five years together, he sometimes felt overwhelmed with his good fortune.

Abby snorted. "I haven't showered in almost twenty-four hours, I'm not wearing make-up, and I've got boobs the size of..." She looked down. "Beach balls."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Seth said with a smirk.

Abby rolled her eyes at him and then Harrison pulled away with a little pop, his mouth hanging open as his eyes moving behind his eyelids. Abby expertly arranged him over her shoulder, rubbed his little back a few times and a nice, resounding belch rewarded her efforts. "Goodness," she said quietly. "He sounds like Emmett."

"That's not funny," Seth teased. "Don't ever say that again."

She leaned in close and kissed his cheek, the baby between them. He squirmed a little bit and Abby pulled back. "Thank you," she said.

"For what?" Seth asked as he took a strand of warm, bright hair and wrapped it around his fingers. He loved seeing the color of it next to his skin.

"For not running," she said. "For just letting yourself love me...love us."

Seth smiled slowly. "That's the easiest and best decision I ever made."

And Harrison burped again, seeming to give his approval of that decision as well.


	52. Chapter 52: It Hurts When I Do This

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: This was originally written for FMF on The Twinklings Blog. Thanks to them for giving me an opportunity to have something on their site. It's a great site. I had this scene in mind for a while. Bella and Edward have five kids to love and raise and decide that five is enough. So Edward makes the ultimate sacrifice and lets someone near his precious dick with a sharp object. Bella is still on the pill in this little one-shot because you have to go back and make sure that no little soldiers are getting through. Anyway, here is their first time after his vasectomy. And who said true love is dead?**_

**#52 It Hurts When I Do This**

I had hobbled and shuffled like an old man that first day. Bella had been too concerned to laugh at me, but the boys were a different story. They found my "discomfort" highly amusing. I endured their teasing. I suffered through the agony and pain and pretended that I didn't want to cry because I was a guy and that was what guys did.

It's amazing what a man will do for love.

In my case, it was getting my nut sack sliced open.

That sounded painful. It was. Not gonna lie. But you do what you've gotta do, and we didn't want any more kids. Thus, the nut slicing.

Sitting around with an ice pack on my balls wasn't my idea of a fun way to spend a Friday night. But for Bella, well, I'd probably let someone rip my nuts right off if that was what it took. Though I must say I was really hoping we were never in a situation where it was my nuts vs. Bella's life.

On Saturday, I was still hunched over like a man twice my age, which would be in my eighties, in case anyone wanted to know. I guessed that technically I was middle aged, but really, what's age but a number? Funny, how it's only when your number was up there that you started thinking like that.

On Sunday, I was able to get around a little easier, though my recovery was somewhat set back when a bundle of energy named Dani Cullen climbed up my legs and settled herself in my lap with a plop. Toddlers and aching balls were not a good mix, in case you were wondering.

But by Monday, I was feeling a little better. No more ice packs, no more hobbling, no more throbbing. Well, only a little.

On Tuesday, I even woke up with my usual morning wood. Praise the Lord and Hallelujah! I rubbed against Bella's ass for a minute, just to sort of get a feel for how things were going to work. Everything seemed to be in working order. So far, so good. But of course, Bella had to go to work and the boys were up and I could hear Dani singing away in her crib and... Yeah, I was still a little sore. So my morning boner was wasted, reassuring but ultimately wasted.

On Wednesday, more wood, which was more good news. After someone cuts you down there, it's always reassuring when things pop up like they're supposed to. It was another hectic weekday morning, however, and I kind of rubbed against Bella for a few minutes and that was it.

Thursday was just a repeat of Tuesday and Wednesday. Still, any boner is something to be grateful for, right?

By Friday, I was starting to feel a bit neglected. I was fucking horny, like teenage boy with a hot new teacher kind of horny. I wouldn't say I was pouting, because guys don't pout. But I was definitely getting my brood on. And Bella didn't seem to notice. At all. I found myself sulking a little bit more. I mean, I had had a vasectomy so _she_ wouldn't have to stay on the pill and we wouldn't have to worry about having any more kids and you'd think she would appreciate the sacrifice and –

Yeah, I was definitely in sulk mode.

Then it was Friday night and I began to worry and wonder if we'd _ever _have sex again. Obviously, all my parts were in working order. I hadn't rubbed one out, but I was pretty sure the end result would be the same as it always was. I just kind of wanted Bella there for the maiden voyage so to speak.

Besides, I'd been rubbing my hard dick all over her ass like an ill-mannered dog practically all week. She should have gotten the hint, right? Unless she was deliberately ignoring the hints.

Was she less attracted to me now? I'd done the whole "snip the balls" thing for her, but had it backfired?

I moved from sulking to anxious.

That night, I stood by the bed, my hands on my boxers and hesitated. Naked or not? Ever the optimist, I stripped them off and gave my balls a look. Much better, especially since most of the bruising and swelling was gone. My testicles no longer looked like they belonged to a giant Smurf. I got into bed and watched Bella brush her teeth at the pair of sinks. Then she flossed. And brushed her hair. She gave me a smile in the mirror and ducked into the bathroom part and seemed to be gone for a long time.

I wondered if she wasn't feeling well.

I wondered if she thought of me as half a man.

I wondered if I'd ever have sex again.

I wondered a lot of things.

And then the door opened and Bella walked out.

I'm pretty sure my mouth fell open. And I drooled. A lot. I know for sure that my dick gave the sheets a good punch, his way of jumping up and yelling "Pick me!"

Bella was wearing something I could only call a Naughty Nurse outfit. I was pretty sure that if she had actually _been_ a nurse and shown up to work in that getup that she'd have gotten fired. Or gotten a big fat raise. It could have gone either way.

Sheer, white stockings held up by a white garter belt, a white corset, a see-through thong if I was guessing right and a tiny little bit of fabric that might laughingly be called a dress with a red cross on it. Oh, I can't forget the little cap perched on top of her head. I immediately that that maybe I'd like to see what the top of that cap looked like while Bella knelt at my feet and sucked my cock into her mouth. My dick apparently liked that idea and gave another good kick.

She sauntered toward me and I found myself sitting up in bed and swallowing hard. Hard seemed to be the word of the day.

"You haven't been feeling well," she murmured. "I'm here to make it all better."

We had done some role playing before, nothing major but it was good for kicks and giggles. My favorite prop was the tiara. Yeah, that tiara brought back some fond memories. But this naughty nurse scenario? Hell yeah, sign me up. I could play sick every day.

Her full lips were pouty as she slid onto the bed and straddled me. "Do you hurt anywhere, handsome?"

I nodded, unable to speak.

"Aw, my poor baby," she said and put her hand on my forehead. "Where do you hurt?" she whispered in my ear and then gave it a little lick that had me twitching in all sorts of interesting ways.

"Lots of places," I finally managed to say. "But mostly...it hurts when I do this," I added as I gave my dick a slow stroke.

"That sounds serious," she agreed. She sat back on my thighs, sort of rubbing herself against me. I could feel the silky texture of her white thong, the heat of her pussy, and the slickness that told me she was as turned on as I was.

Apparently, I _was_ going to have sex again. Now.

"Hmmm..." Bella breathed as she began kissing her way down my chest. She took some detours along the way. First my right nipple. Then my left. Her teeth were sharp but then she licked the little hurt away. "I'd better take a good look."

When she swirled her tongue around my belly button I found my hips thrusting up, looking for some friction. Bella's hair was silky against my thighs and I reached down to wrap some of it around my hands. She didn't usually mind as long as I didn't pull too hard.

Then her breath was hot on my dick and we both moaned as it jumped and twitched. "It looks like you've made a full recovery, Mr. Cullen, but I'd better make sure," she said in a professional tone that was kind of ruined by the way she licked at my balls. Her tongue flickered over the two small incisions and then she placed gentle kisses there. "My sweet, sweet man," she whispered. She looked up at me, my dick straining, her lips red and plump and the naughty nurse disappeared for a moment, to be replaced by my wife, the woman I loved, the woman with whom I'd built a crazy and perfectly imperfect life. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." My declaration was punctuated by my dick twitching again. Stupid dick. But at least he worked. And luckily Bella appreciated my perverted side.

Bella laughed and the ninja, demon, temptress was back – and she was once again a naughty nurse. Her lips wrapped around me and suddenly, even though my dick was working just fine, my brain kind of shut down on me. For some reason, Marvin Gaye started singing "Sexual Healing" and I decided that it fit. I was tugging on her hair, urging her on, thrusting up into her mouth. She didn't need much urging, thank God.

Her fingers traced slowly, softly up and down the inside of my thighs, and then when she reached my balls, she would caress them too. They were aching again, but in a very good way. She cupped my sack, gave it a very gentle squeeze and tug, then her fingers were moving up and down my legs again. The whole time, her mouth never stopped working me. First a lot of suction, then she'd lick up and down. I could never anticipate exactly what was coming next – except I was pretty sure it'd be me if she kept that shit up.

Then she pulled free with a pop and a wink, making me groan. She had that gleam in her eyes, the one that made me sweat and shiver. She shimmied up my body, still wearing the sinfully tempting white getup.

She settled herself over me, her slickest, warmest parts lined up with my twitching, hardest parts. She gave a little slide and grind that had my hands clutching at her hips. "Fuck, Bella..."

"Exactly," Bella said. "That's exactly what you're going to do." Her slender fingers made quick work of the three buttons on the dress and then moved to the little hooks on the corset. They were conveniently located in front and when she reached the last one, the thing slid back, just barely revealing her hard nipples.

Unable to help myself, I brushed my fingers over them and she hissed, arching into my touch. My dick liked the reaction so I repeated the action to see if I'd get more of the same.

I did.

I made a move like I was going to flip her over and tuck her underneath me, but she tightened her thighs around me, letting me know that wasn't what she wanted. She wanted to stay right where she was – in control.

Okay. I would play this her way. Besides, that position gave me such a great view of her boobs. I knew they'd be bouncing in a minute. I really liked the bouncing.

Bella put one of her fingers to her mouth and sucked, her cheeks hollowing. I groaned, remembering the feel of that hot mouth around my dick. Then her hand was sliding down her belly, between the white of the corset to the top of that fucking white thong, which was see-through. I could see her trimmed dark curls peeking through and I wanted to run my fingers through them.

Then her finger slipped underneath the thong, slid through those dark curls and swirled and circled slowly over her clit.

We both moaned and Bella's hips bucked against her touch, which made my hips want to get in on the action too. I lifted her up with my own grind and swivel and her movements on her clit got faster. She started grinding against me, answering my hip twist with one of her own.

Fuck, she could move.

Just when I was about ready to bust my poor abused nuts, she stopped and I could feel the sweat trickling down my chest. I lowered myself to the bed, knowing that's what she wanted. She gave me an approving little sigh and then her finger was in my mouth. She was giving me a taste. I sucked her finger into my mouth and let my tongue explore it.

Damn, she tasted good. I didn't want to talk with my mouth full so I gave her a little groan to say thanks. She laughed and leaned down to press kisses up and down my throat, licking little paths of fire. Then just over my collarbone, she latched on and sucked hard, leaving her mark on me. Demon, ninja temptress indeed.

Abruptly, she leaned back, pulling her mouth from my skin and her finger from my mouth. Once more, she reached down but this time, she just moved the thong aside. Not that there was much to move.

Her lips were full and glistening, her clit pink and pouting, waiting for me. I rubbed it with my finger and she arched sharply, throwing her head back which made her hair brush against my thighs.

"Gotta be inside you," I managed to grind out.

"Hell yes you do," she agreed. She lifted up just enough and I lined my dick up with her pussy. She dropped down and I was inside of her, surging and thrusting like it had been years since I'd been there.

It felt like it.

I locked my hands over her hips and she squeezed at them approvingly. Sometimes my girl liked it a little rough. I was more than willing to oblige. I sort of held in her place there, pushing up into her, pulling her down onto me, moving my hips in a circle to give her that little extra something.

She rode me hard. Her boobs were bouncing and I couldn't decide where I wanted to look. Every jiggle and bounce was mesmerizing, but then I got a glimpse of how it looked with my dick pistoning in and out of her and I got distracted. Fuck, it was all so hot.

"Bella..." I gasped. I could feel my orgasm thrumming in my lower back, pounding in my balls, trembling in my thighs. It was happening.

She beat me there. Her body clamped down on mine and I got two more good, hard thrusts before I exploded too. The aftershocks were killer, making me shake and shiver as I came down hard on the bed.

Bella just sort of collapsed on me and I wanted to beat my chest like a male gorilla and howl like a wolf at the same time – except I was too damned tired and still trying to catch my breath.

It was a good feeling.

Her voice was muffled, but still breathless. "I think it's safe to say that everything works."

I laughed, or tried to, and ran my fingers down her back. She was sweaty too. I liked it. "Yeah, I think all systems are go."

"Good to know," she murmured, her nurse's hat hanging off one ear. "Good to know." 


	53. Chapter 53: The One

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: I had to fudge on the timeline a little bit. I wanted to fit in a couple things in one outtake. I'm working on the next two outtakes, which are of Edward/Bella/the kids – AS kids. **_

**#53 The One**

"So...has anyone met his mystery woman?" Dani asked as she snaked a hand in between her Aunt Alyssa and Alex's wife Julie to snag a baby carrot.

"Nope," Rose confirmed. "She remains, as ever, a mystery."

Gabriella was chopping up some chicken for kabobs. "Well, it's a given that she's supermodel material."

"Yeah, but Sam sounds serious and super mysterious about this one," Alyssa pointed out. "And if he'd wanted that type, then he's had lots of opportunities."

"Lots and_ lots_ of opportunities," Dani quipped.

Gabriella and Rose looked at each other and snorted. "I'll say," Bella muttered and Alyssa gave her an understanding smile. They both had sons whom they feared were never going to settle down. Ever.

Abby and Alice were sitting at the table, discussing where everyone would sit, where to put the kids and the men, who would insist on being close to the beer and the food. The family had kind of out grown the house when they all got together like this. "So, he's bringing her for sure?" Abby asked Bella. "Like without being tortured or coerced or threatened or anything like that?" Her blue eyes were alight with laughter. Sam's reticence when it came to the women in his life was legendary in the Cullen/James clan. Even Kyle was more open about introducing whatever woman happened to be currently hanging on his arm.

"That's the plan," Bella answered with a shrug. "We'll see. A few times he's said he was going to bring a girl over and-"

"Women, Mom," Dani interrupted. "They're women."

Bella rolled her eyes at her daughter. "Women, girls, whatever. If they're younger than me then they're girls."

"Then that means every female in the world is a girl," Dani teased.

"Listen, just because you don't currently reside here does _not_ mean I can't give you a whipping." Bella stared at her daughter over the tops of her glasses.

Dani snorted and hopped up onto the counter, shoving Rose aside in the process. "Hey, short stuff, watch what you're doing. Or better yet, help." Rose pointed the knife in Dan's direction and gave it a threatening wave.

Dani looked at the gathered women, all of them doing something domestic for the family cookout. "No thanks, I'm good." Dani liked baking a lot, and she was actually a good cook. But when it came to family get togethers, she preferred being a supervisor. Besides, she had just flown in the night before, ready to enjoy her school break and do absolutely nothing for a while. "Besides, I'm exhausted...you know, from cramming all that information into my brain?" She shot her sister-in-law an impish grin.

Rose rolled her eyes and gave her a little nudge and then continued cutting up vegetables. "Anyway, Emmett says that Sam sounds different about this one."

"Yeah, we'll see," Dani remarked skeptically. "If she's not his usual type then maybe I'll believe that, but if she's just another supermodel wannabe, then she'll go the way of the others." Dani snorted. "And good riddance. Sam deserves more than window dressing."

"But he doesn't usually bring them around," Bella noted. "Only a few times when he sort of got cornered into it, and they left right away. Remember that Brazilian girl, Alyssa?"

Alyssa laughed. "They were here less than an hour before he was hustling her out the door with some nonsense about not feeling well."

"She was sweet," Bella mused. "Not the brightest crayon in the box, but still...sweet is better than brains."

"Yeah, provided she has enough brain cells to remember how to brush her teeth and tie her own shoes," Dani observed.

"Quit being mean," Bella chided.

"I like being mean, it comes naturally to me," Dani replied with a pout.

Julie spoke up. "Did I tell you that Kyle called Alex last night?" That was unusual enough for all the women to turn around and look at Julie. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and nodded. "Yep," she confirmed. "They mostly talked about the job he's on but he did mention that he met a girl."

"A girl or a woman, because with Kyle you actually have to ask," Dani said.

Gabriella gave a little cough/laugh/snort and ducked her head down. It was true, though. Kyle had eclectic taste in women and some of them were a little young for his mother's comfort. All of them were legal, but not by too much. It was enough to make a mother despair.

Julie frowned. "I'm going to say...girl slash woman in this case. Apparently, she's an actress or something."

"Where's he at now?" Alice asked.

"He's back in Indonesia or something," Julie answered with a shrug. "Really, he could be one place last night and on a different continent this morning, so I just stopped asking."

They all murmured agreement.

"Anyway...she's an English girl who's visiting or there for work, or something." She sighed. "You know men; they never get any of the _important_ details."

There were muttered commiserations from all of the women, even Dani.

"What's her name?" Rose asked.

Julie thought about it. "Melissa...Melissa...Campbell? I think that's it."

Dani sat up straight and hit her head on the cabinet behind her. She rubbed it ruefully. "Melissa Campbell the actress from England?"

Julie shrugged. "I guess so."

"So what?" Abby asked.

"So...she's like the next "It" girl or something," Dani said.

Rose rolled her eyes. "I thought you didn't read gossip."

Dani shook her head. "Most of my friends at school are guys and they've been drooling over this chick for months."

"Chick?" Bella asked with amusement. "This from the woman who protested the term girls?"

Dani had the grace to look chagrined. "Busted, and my apologies. But this is _classic_!"

She clapped her hands. "They talk...a lot. Wait until I tell them that my cousin's banging her."

"Dani," Bella sighed wearily.

"Well you know he is," Dani said. "If Kyle says he's met this girl that means he's been in her panties."

Alyssa put her hands over her ears. "Dani, please, I prefer to think of my sons as virgins until they get married. Could you please just allow me that?"

Julie started snickering. The rest of the women joined in. Alex and Julie had been busted by family members a few times for "public displays of affection". Alyssa just closed her eyes and began humming to herself.

"Kyle could do much better," Dani muttered.

"You don't even know this girl," Bella pointed out.

"I know that if she's an actress, she probably spends all morning deciding what color nail polish to put on her toes and then calls for a martini because she's had a 'difficult' day." Dani's voice was full of derision.

Gabriella blew her a kiss. "Not everyone can be a hot shot pilot and fly like a bat out of hell just for kicks and giggles," she reminded Dani.

"And there's nothing wrong with painting your toe nails," Bella grumbled.

"Oh God, Mom, please...we all know about Daddy's little foot fetish!" Dani hooted with laughter.

Bella just groaned and dropped her head.

Gabriella began saying, "TMI, T-M-I, Dani, just _way_ too much information." Of all of them, Gabriella was the most shy, but she was slowly learning to be more assertive. It was kind of a key to survival in such a large family.

"I'm just saying," Dani said airily. "It's not like it's a big secret or anything."

Beside Gabriella, Rose started chopping the onion and Gabriella stopped, put her hand over her mouth and rushed to the kitchen sink. After she was done bringing up her breakfast, Gabriella rinsed out her mouth and leaned shakily on the counter.

"You okay?" Rose asked, brushing back Gabriella's hair.

Bella put her arms around Gabriella. "Does this mean what I think it means?" she asked with a big grin.

"Yeah, we were going to tell everyone after we sat down to eat," Gabriella said. "But the onion..." She made a face. "Or maybe it was Dani's comment," she teased. "Anyway, something hit the eject button."

The women all gathered around her, offering hugs and congratulations.

"Don't ruin it for Jake," Gabriella pleaded. "He's so looking forward to making the announcement."

"We'll be good and surprised," Dani assured her, clapping her hands. "Another niece!"

"Could be a boy," Bella reminded her.

"Nope, I want a girl." She smirked. "And she's going to be gorgeous! I hope she looks like Rebecca." Dani looked at her mother. "This kid will be the tie-breaker in the grandkid tally, Mom."

Bella stopped. "Why it sure will," she said. "How wonderful! We have Rebecca, Mackenzie and Bailey for the girls. And there's Michael, Harrison, and Jimmy for the boys. Tie-breaker baby!"

They all gave a little cheer, though not loud enough to get the men's attention.

"Just remember," Gabriella cautioned. "Not a word. Jake will be so disappointed if he doesn't to make his big announcement and surprise everyone."

**~THTF~**

"So..." Jake said, taking a sip of his beer. "Gabby and I are having a baby," he announced with a smirk.

Edward got a little teary-eyed and Emmett had to give him shit about it. "Uh oh, someone turned on the old man's waterworks."

Edward gave Emmett a good-natured punch in the arm.

Jasper lifted his beer. "To the newest little James, may he raise hell in good health."

They all drank to the baby. Then Jake leaned in. "I wasn't supposed to say anything, so you know, keep it to yourself. I'll be announcing it later. Act surprised." He turned his eyes toward Emmett. "Keep that goofy look off your face or you'll give it away," he warned.

Emmett pretended to be offended.

Seth shook his head at his brothers' usual antics. He was still the quiet one, preferring to sit back and take it all in. With so many strong personalities, it wasn't any wonder he preferred to be a spectator most of the time. Then Harrison came zipping through the yard where the men were gathered, his brother hot on heels. Seth knew trouble when he saw it.

Seth got up and caught them both neatly by the arms as they tried to skirt around him. He was an expert at the move.

"Well now, what seems to be the problem here?" he asked his sons.

Harrison just shrugged, his freckled face flushed from his run. Michael was obviously angry. But neither boy seemed inclined to divulge the source of their disagreement, which told Seth that they were both at fault.

"Make 'em hold hands," Emmett said. "Remember how Mom used to do that when we fought too much?"

Seth grinned. "I didn't, but now I do." He nodded at his boys. "Okay, so here's the deal, either say you're sorry to each other or you'll end up holding hands the whole day."

Michael stared at his father in horror. "Gross," he muttered.

"Double gross," Harrison countered, shying away from his brother.

"Okay, so apologize," Seth said.

Michael stuck out a hand and mumbled a very hurried. "Sorry."

Harrison did the same, and then added, "...butt breath," to his apology, which earned him a time out sitting by his father. Michael stuck his tongue out at his brother and was immediately joining him on the ground by Seth's chair.

"I'm so glad I only have one boy," he muttered. Jimmy was around somewhere, probably letting his female cousins talk him into doing whatever they wanted. The kid was a pushover, especially for Rebecca. The girl could tell him to shave his head, paint himself blue, and do a headstand while trying to sing the national anthem. He'd only want to know what color blue she preferred.

"Yeah, but just wait until Mackenzie and Bailey want to date," Seth countered with a wink.

"Oh that's easy," Emmett said. "They won't date. _Ever_."

"I seem to remember Pops saying the same thing about Dani," Jake reminded him.

"Yeah, but I'm a cop. I'll just arrest any boy that tries to date my daughters. I've got a plan," Em said, tapping the side of his skull.

Jake nudged Seth. "He's got a plan until Rose_ tells_ him he_ doesn't_ have a plan."

Seth snorted. "Amen." And the two of them bumped fists.

Masen and Edward just shook their heads in unison. Now that they both had white hair, they looked even more alike, though Masen had admittedly developed a small paunch over the years. Masen insisted that Edward had an unfair advantage in staying slim because he had to chase after Dani. Edward conceded that this might be true and offered to loan him Dani. Masen declared that that was what Weight Watchers was for and declined the offer.

"Hey, Seth, Alice and I are going to drive through Charleston next week on our way to see Sophie. Can we take you and Abby out to dinner?" Jasper asked.

"Can we leave the boys with Abby's mother?" Seth glanced at his boys, who were plucking up grass and trying to ignore each other and annoy each other at the same time.

"Sure, we'll just make it the four of us," Jasper agreed.

"Then it's a done deal," Seth said. "All right you two, you're bailed out of jail. Go forth and sin no more."

The boys jumped to their feet like they had been shocked. Seth sighed. "I swear, Pops, two of them wear me out. I'm not sure how you dealt with four of us."

"Plus Dani," Emmett reminded him.

"Plus Dani," Seth agreed with a shake of his head.

"That's a whole lot of plus," Masen muttered.

"Tell me about it," Edward said.

The men were quiet for a few moments. "So...has anyone talked to Sam about this woman he's bringing today?"

"Has to be kind of serious for him to volunteer to bring her," Emmett noted. "He sounds...I dunno, different when he talks about this one."

"What's her name again?" Masen asked. "Marie?"

"Mary," Edward told him. "Mary Lang."

"What's she do?" Jasper asked.

"She works with a dog rescue team," Edward said.

"She rescues dogs?" Jake asked.

Edward laughed and shook his head. "I'm sure she does, but what I mean is that she goes into the sites of disasters and she and her dogs rescue people."

"She sounds perfect for Sam," Emmett noted.

"So he's bound to screw it up," Jake said.

"I don't think so," Emmett said. "He seems serious this time."

"You don't mean...the "M" word?" Jake asked in obvious shock. "Sam doesn't do the "M" word. Sam doesn't t_hink_ the "M" word. In fact, I'm pretty sure he's tried to petition to have it removed from the dictionary."

"I'm just saying it wouldn't surprise me," Emmett replied.

"Holy shit," Jake said.

They heard Baxter barking wildly and Jake looked at Seth. "They're here. Should we go see this woman who has twisted our brother up into knots?"

"I think we should," Seth agreed with a grin.

A few moments later, the whole gang, minus a few kids, was all gathered around in the living room, trying not to stare at Sam James and the woman by his side. It wasn't so much the woman they were gaping at it, it was the way Sam had his arm wrapped around her. He never did that. Ever. Jake nudged Seth.

"This is the one," he said quietly.

"You think?" Seth asked, though he was rapidly coming to the same opinion himself.

Jake nodded and jerked his head toward the way Sam's hand was resting on Mary's lower back as he introduced her individually to his female relatives. Dani met Jake's eyes and gave him a thumbs up that was missed by no one except Mary. Sam just rolled his eyes, though his hand never left Mary.

Later on, Sam was sitting by Edward and the two men were catching up. "I like your Mary, son," Edward finally said.

Sam eyes followed Mary as she sat talking to Abby and Bella, with Rebecca listening in. "Yeah, I like her too."

"I can see that," Pops said with a little smirk.

"She's the one, Pops," Sam said quietly.

"Yeah, I kind of got that impression." Pops was smiling widely.

For a moment, the two of them sat in silence, listening to the dozen conversations that surrounded them. They heard kids laughing and yelling. There were women teasing men they loved and men trying to apologize for saying something stupid. Masen was always to be counted on for that. There was a good-natured argument over footballs teams being held by the grill by Jake and Dani. Neither was willing to back down.

"You made quite a family here," Sam observed.

"A hell of a family," Edward agreed.

"Who would have thought that this would be the result all those years ago when Em busted your windshield?" Sam ventured.

"Best accident I ever had," Edward agreed.

Sam met Mary's eyes and they both smiled at each other from across the distance. "It sneaks up on you sometimes, doesn't it?"

Edward laughed and clapped Sam on the back. "It's best just to go with it, Sam. Believe me. You'll just hurt yourself if you try and fight it."

"Yeah, I kind of got that impression," Sam agreed, echoing Pops' words.

Edward clinked his Coke bottle with Sam's. "To the _one_."

_**Author's Note: Here is the family tree a few of you mentioned. Great idea! Hope it helps!**_

**Edward-Bella -Mac**

**Dani – married- Eli** **Emmett –married- Rosalie**: **Mackenzie, Bailey, and Jimmy**

** Seth – married – Abby: Michael and Harrison**

** Sam – married – Mary: no children, plenty of dogs!**

** Jake – married – Gabriella: Rebecca and Eddie**

**Carlisle – married – Esme : Edward (see above) and Masen**

**Masen – married – Alyssa:**

**Alex – married Julie – two kids**

**Kyle: still playing the field like a naughty boy!**

**Alice – married – Jasper:**

**Rose (his niece) – married Emmett James**

**Sophie **

**Sarah **

**Adam**


	54. Chapter 54: These Boots

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: Okay, this is a silly little outtake that came to me when I was picking up my husband's size thirteens, LOL! Anyway, according to my research, the Army switched to the current tan colored, "rough out" boots in 2002. So while Mac's first boots in the Army would have been like Charlies '(used in the Army since 1957), the boots Mac wore on deployment would have been the current model.**_

**#54 These Boots**

I looked at the boots. They were big and black and very, very shiny. I was happy because when the boots were by the door that meant that Daddy was home. Daddy was home and he would let me sit on his lap while he watched the football game. He would yell and try to jump up and he would forget I was there for a second. And I would almost tumble to the floor. Then he'd catch me before I tumbled off his lap and he would laugh and call me "little girl" and I would be scared and happy all at the same time. Daddy never let me _really_ fall, but my tummy didn't know that.

I slipped my feet into Daddy's boots and tried to lace them up, but I didn't know how to tie shoelaces yet. Mommy always had to help me. Daddy had said something about bunny ears, but I couldn't ever remember.

Daddy's boots came halfway up my leg and they made a really loud clomping noise when I walked. I sounded like a horse or a monster. I gave a little growl to see if I sounded scary. I wondered if I would scare Will if I clomped into his room and growled at him. He was still sleeping in a crib, so maybe he'd think I had locked him up there.

I didn't want him to cry. Well, maybe a little.

I stomped up and down the floor, growling every now and then, and hooking my hands into claws. Then I felt myself whisked into the air and I squealed. _Don't drop me, Daddy! Don't drop me!_ I laughed. _Oh, that kind of tickles! Your face is scratchy!_

Then I was wrapping my arms around Daddy's neck. "Hey, little girl," he whispered, pressing our foreheads together. "You gonna be a soldier one day?" He smiled then, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

I shook my head and rested on my Daddy's shoulder. Daddy's boots were still hanging from my feet, a heavy weight but I didn't mind. Daddy was home.

**~THTF~**

I sighed as I picked up the size 16s that had been dropped by the side of the bed. I was irritated for just a moment – how many times had I asked him not to drop them there where I would invariably trip over them and almost kill myself? I was just a annoyed until I felt their heavy, reassuring weight in my hands. He was _home_. For now, he was home. I sat down on the bed and cradled those big, dirty boots to my chest.

I wasn't surprised when the tears fell.

It was kind of funny. I had always thought that once the deployment was over that all of my fears would just disappear – like some sort of magic act. Look! The amazing soldier returns home and POOF! His wife no longer stays awake at night, listening for the sound of a car door opening or the sounds of four feet walking up to her door.

But that wasn't how it happened.

Now that he was home, now that his boots were safely where they belonged and ready to trip me as I got out of bed, the fear still hadn't gone away. It lingered, like the effects of booze or drugs. It felt sort of like a hangover, making my mouth go dry and my belly clench.

He found me there, clutching at his old boots and bawling like a baby. Mac stood there for a moment, blurred by my tears, big and wide and reassuring in the doorway. Then he was wrapping those gigantic arms around me and hauling me up close. "Oh sweetheart," he murmured as he kissed my cheek...my nose...my forehead. I had always called that his what-the-fuck-do-I-do-now kiss. He used it when he didn't know what to do with me.

I had cried when I first hugged him a week ago. I had even cried a little when he first slid into me that night because it had felt so good and I hadn't realized until that moment how terrified I had been that I'd never feel him do that again. But I hadn't cried since then. Because he was home and everything was all right. Now, however, I was a weeping, red-nosed mess and I had confounded him.

Greedily, I tugged his mouth to mine and wrapped around like him like a vine on a tree. I was never going to let him go. "You're here," I whispered, pressing my lips to the rough, warm skin of his cheek, his jaw, his throat. "You're safe."

He laughed then and the sound rumbled through me like thunder on a summer day. "I'm safe," he agreed.

And that only made me cry harder.

Mac was home.

** ~THTF~**

It was strange to see those boots in the hall closet. Strange and familiar at the same time. I had to smile as I looked at them. After more than two years of seeing my shoes alone in the closet, now I finally had a pair of Army boots next to mine again. Edward wouldn't part with them, even though he was no longer in the Army. As he insisted, he had just gotten them "broken in" and they made great work boots. He wore them when he worked in the yard sometimes.

I was just happy to see them there, stained and dirty as they were. They were Edward. And Edward was here. Edward was mine.

And I was his.

All was right. More than right.

What guardian angel had looked down on me and decided to give me a second chance at life and love?

I thought about all the boots I had picked up in my life. My father's glossy black ones that he always shined sitting at the kitchen table, the little can of wax open, its unique scent filling the air, the steady whoosh-whoosh-whoosh of the brush as he worked it over the surface of the boots, the way he would talk to me as he worked. We had some interesting conversations as he shined his boots.

He had been shining his boots the first time we talked, _really_ talked, about his confusion when Will came out. He had been shining his boots when Mac walked in and asked for my hand in marriage. Later, Mac told me that there had been a pause in the whoosh-whoosh-whoosh of the brush and that he had started sweating. Then Dad had silently resumed brushing and made Mac sweat a little more.

Some of my clearest memories of my father were of him shining those black boots in a dozen different kitchens, the sound and scent always the same.

Then Mac's boots, freshly home from the sands of Iraq. He tended to drop them where he took them off. I used to tease him because as precise as he was in some habits (the watch always in the same place on the nightstand), his boots were left to fend for themselves and fell wherever Mac happened to be when he would take them off with a sigh of relief. He would always rub at his feet for a moment, then take off his socks and inspect the large appendages at the ends of his legs. Mac had had gigantic, powerful looking feet with rough calluses that scraped at my skin when he wasn't careful.

I had loved those big, rough feet, especially as they tangled up with mine in bed, our legs over and under each other's.

Then those feet were gone, and the boots with them. Too painful a reminder, I had gotten rid of most of his stuff after he died. And what I had kept, I had packed away. I had kept his boots. I wasn't sure why. Maybe because those boots were Mac in a way that other things weren't. But I didn't need things to remind me. I had four beautiful living reminders of what Mac and I had shared.

So, for what seemed an eternity there had been no boots in my life. I had had lots and lots of sneakers and flip flops and those slowly grew in size. Size ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen... But by the time I was searching for size 14s, another pair of boots had walked into my life.

Edward's boots.

Edward's boots, like Edward's feet, were different. His feet were built like the rest of him, long and lean and elegant. Even his feet were pretty. And as I studied Edward's boots next to my shoes, I felt happy.

It was the kind of happiness that took you by surprise and filled you up and you knew that you would always love the owner of those boots. And he would always love you back.

Quietly, I closed the closet door, satisfied knowing that his boots were safely nestled next to the shoes I would wear later today. I found him in the kitchen, making sure all of the boys had lunches packed and papers signed and everyone knew where everyone had to be later in the day. He had my coffee ready to go and he smiled at me as I walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning, beautiful," he whispered as he hugged me close. His bare feet brushed against mine, his long toes almost caressing as he sought to bring us even closer.

"Good morning," I said and I closed my eyes, still picturing those boots.

I was home.


	55. Chapter 55: Meeting Mr Alexander

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#55 Meeting Mr. Alexander**

**Author's Note: Just to help everyone get a clear picture of where everyone is at in their lives, here is a list of approximate ages for the gang. Also, this little outtake was recommended by a reader, and I thought it was a great idea. I'm always happy to hear your ideas on possible outtakes, though I can't promise to deliver. I am, after all, at the questionable mercy of my muse, LOL!**

_**Edward 70, Bella 68**_

_**Emmett – 45, Rose 46 (Mackenzie 19, Bailey 16, Jimmy 15)**_

_**Seth – 43, Abby 46 (Michael 15, Harrison 11)**_

_**Sam- 41, Mary 40**_

_**Jake – 38, Gabriella 36 (Rebecca 12, Eddie 5)**_

_**Dani – 28, Eli 32**_

"What's the matter?" Dani asked as they settled into their seats.

Eli didn't look at her, just sort of cleared his throat and shook his head. "Nothing," he muttered. He shot her a kind of shaky smile. "I'm fine. Don't worry."

Dani studied him for a moment and then cupped his cheek. "They're going to love you, you know."

"Yeah, sure, okay," Eli said.

Dani smiled and kissed him. "Seriously, you're worried about nothing."

"Yeah, okay, your father, your uncle, and your four brothers are nothing to worry about." He shrugged. "Got it."

The flight attendant came around to make sure they were comfortable and Dani took his hand. She gave it a reassuring squeeze and he laughed a little. It had become a joke between them that even though Dani was a pilot, Eli would probably never like flying. He was fine up in a plane with Dani at the controls, but he tended to get nervous when flying on a commercial flight. Dani insisted that his belief in her skills was flattering. Eli said it was just plain embarrassing.

Eli looked out the window and tried to discretely wipe his hand on his jeans. The flight from Jacksonville, where Dani was stationed, to North Carolina was fairly short. Dani had begged her family not to pick them up at the airport, claiming that they would need their own car while they were in town. But in truth, she had done so because she wanted to give Eli a little more time to ease into meeting them.

Or maybe it was to give him time to find his balls and work up his courage, Eli admitted.

Dani's eyes were closed and he could see that she had already fallen asleep. He had to smile at that, because he'd never known anyone who could fall asleep as quickly and easily as Dani Cullen. It was like she had an "off" button and could simply power down on request. It was cute and adorable, but at the moment he would gladly have pulled her hair and yelled in her ear to wake her up. Unfair. That's what it was. Unfair. He was sweating bullets at the prospect of meeting her family and she was snoozing away like a baby at naptime.

He got so busy worrying about meeting her family that the flight was over before he knew it. As soon as the captain announced they were making their descent, Dani's green eyes popped open and she sat up, looking completely refreshed and at ease.

Eli's eyes narrowed. He was perturbed. The least she could do was look nervous. At least pretend to be nervous. He scowled at her, but she just offered an impish grin in return. "Just remember, after we meet your family, we'll drive down to see my family." He gave a wicked smile. "My sisters are dying to meet you, and my mama can't wait to get her arms around you."

He felt a moment of gratification at seeing her smile slip just a little bit. Yes, it was mean. Yes, it was petty. However, it was also funny as hell. How many times had Dani told him that she didn't do "girly" things very well and that the typical female mind confused her? He couldn't wait for her to get a look at his three baby sisters. They were about as girly as it got, and Dani was going to beg him to rescue her.

Well, that would all depend on how the next few days went. If she threw him to the wolves as far as her daddy and her brothers were concerned, then she'd be all on her own.

Dani rented the car, getting the military discount because the girl really did love to pinch pennies. He'd never have to worry about Dani putting them in the poor house, that was sure. She insisted that she'd learned to budget from an early age and that it didn't make sense to stress out about money when there were so many other things beyond her control to stress out about.

She drove, because he knew by now that she'd be more relaxed if she was at the wheel. Besides, she knew the way. He'd insist on driving when they went to visit his family. It would drive Dani crazy, but that only increased its appeal, he was honest enough to admit.

The closer they got to Fayetteville, the more nervous Eli got. It wasn't just meeting her family. Nope. It also had a lot to do with the ring that seemed to weigh a ton and was currently snuggled in his jacket pocket. He had been waiting for the right moment for two weeks now. He could only hope he'd recognize it when it happened.

When Dani started smiling and the car slowed, Eli figured they were getting close. He took a deep breath and Dani reached out to grab his hand. "Take a deep breath," Dani said. "I've heard it helps."

"You're hilarious," Eli muttered.

"But I love you," she reminded him.

He paused, took another deep breath, and briefly kissed her knuckles. "Actually, that _does_ help," he admitted with a rueful smile.

"Now, let's see...Emmett and his wife Rose will be there. They have three kids, Mackenzie, Bailey, and Jimmy." Then Dani sighed. "Of course, Emmett's the cranky one." She smirked. "But if you want to throw him, call him Emmy Bear."

"Got it," Eli assured her. He wondered how Edward Cullen felt about Dani bringing home a man.

Dani laughed. "Then there's Seth and his Abby and their boys – Michael and Harrison. They're the redheads, in case you forget."

"I'll remember."

"Sam and Mary will be there, and they'll probably have a dog or two with them," Dani added.

"Is he gonna be pissed that we left Trouble and Bruiser at home?" Eli asked worriedly. His own

"Not when I assure him that our furry little fiends are happily lazing the days away in a luxury doggie hotel," Dani replied with a roll of her eyes. "I swear, those dogs live better than we do."

Eli was getting too nervous to reply, so he settled for wiping his hands on his jeans again. Shit. Maybe he should have worn dress slacks and a shirt and tie. No. That wasn't him. He was an outdoor kind of guy. Give him some dirt and some plants and he could spend all day outside. Better to let them see the real him and let the cards fall where they may. Besides, Dani wouldn't let anyone punch him. He hoped.

'Then there's Jake, and his wife is named Gabriella and they have two kids – Rebecca and Eddie." Dani snorted. "My dad would much prefer that they called him Edward, but it does help to keep them both straight."

"Got it," Eli said. Damn, there were a lot of them. How was he really supposed to keep them all straight.

"Then _if_ Uncle Masen and Aunt Alyssa are there, prepare to be teased by Uncle Masen," Dani said. "He's a sweetheart, but sometimes he's a little much." She paused. "Come to think of it, they may still be in Rome. Aunt Alyssa loves to travel. So you may luck out."

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

"Anyway, Aunt Alyssa gets him back in line, but..."

Suddenly, Eli blurted, "What about your dad, Dani? What's he going to think of you bringing me home to meet them?"

Dani smirked. "Well, I'm sure he's curious."

"Curious?" What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"I've never really brought a guy home, not since high school anyway," Dani explained.

That made him feel a little bit better. Then Dani pulled into a driveway and he was right back to being on the edge of barfing. How long had it been since he met a woman's parents? Probably high school, same as Dani. She was twenty-eight; he was thirty-two. High school was a long time ago for both of them.

Dani had barely put the car in park when the door to the house was flung open and a huge mountain of a man with shoulder length black hair came barreling down the driveway. He pulled Dani out of the car and into a bear hug. "Always have to be first, don't you Jake?"

So this was Jake. Jake, the youngest of the brothers. Clearly, the pictures he had seen of Dani's family hadn't adequately conveyed their immense size and fucking presence. Eli had a feeling it was going to be a long, long day. From what Dani had said, Jake wasn't even the biggest of the James men.

Well wasn't that just perfect?

Dani nudged Jake in the ribs none too gently and Jake released her. He turned to where Eli had come around the car and approached them and Jake held out a huge paw. "Nice to meet you," Jake said, though his eyes were narrowed as he studied Eli.

Eli had never felt short. He was six feet, two inches tall and usually was one of the taller men in a room. He had a feeling that those days were over. Then Dani was wrapping her arm around Eli's waist and dragging him into the house, leaving Jake to frown after them. Eli knew he was frowning because he looked over his shoulder and saw it.

Shit.

A very, _very_ long day.

Once inside, there was a rush of people and a confusing babble of voices. Rosalie, Emmett's wife. She was in her forties, but still beautiful and intimidating enough to make Eli glad she was friendly. Her smile was warm and her glance speculative. Eli swallowed hard. Then Seth, another giant, and his petite red head wife. Abby's grin was contagious and Eli found himself smiling at her in return. Two lanky boys with bright red hair were trying to hit each other behind their father. They waved at Eli and then went back to trying to pummel each other without their mother seeing them.

Then the biggest guy Eli had ever seen in person was holding out a hand the size of a dinner plate. "Emmett James," the creature said. "Dani's big brother. Dani's _protective _big brother."

Eli had a strange compulsion to admit to stealing that candy bar when he was in the fifth grade. Emmett James knew about that. He just did. There was no mistaking the cop in Emmett's eyes. Eli knew because his dad had been on the job for thirty years and had retired just four years ago. He would have to find a way to drop that into the conversation and try to make points.

"Stop it," Rosalie admonished, giving Emmett a nudge.

Emmett just shrugged but he let go of Eli's hand. Eli flexed it to make sure no bones were broken, though in truth Emmett's grip hadn't been particularly hard. He smirked when Rose gave Emmett a harder nudge when she saw Eli's gesture.

"Ouch, Rosie!" Emmett said, scowling as he rubbed at his side.

"You barely felt that, don't be a pussy," Rose said.

Eli laughed, but he quickly stifled it when he heard Dani squeal, "Daddy!"

Dani rushed past him, almost knocking him down in the process. Then he watched as she launched herself at a tall, slender man with white hair. That was all he could see before Dani was wrapping herself around him and kissing his cheeks and forehead.

"Good Lord, Dani," the man said with a great deal of affection. "I love you too, little girl, but right now I'd like to meet your young man."

Dani moved away and Eli was struck by the fact that she suddenly looked shy. Dani Cullen was a lot of things, most of them wonderful, some of them exasperating, but none of them included shy. Until now.

"Daddy, this is Eli Alexander," she said as she reached for Eli's hand without relinquishing her grip on her father's. "Eli, this is my father, Edward Cullen."

Eli had to release Dani's hand to shake her father's, but he did so. "Very pleased to meet you, sir. And thank you for having me in your home." His mama had taught him manners, and he intended to be on his best behavior.

Looking at the two of them, it was clear that Dani resembled her father quite a bit. The green eyes were exactly the same, and she had told him that her father's hair used to have quite a bit of red in it. Dani had her father's cheekbones, and her jaw hinted at the strong lines of his. Her mouth, however, was more generous and probably her most feminine feature.

They day they'd first met, Eli had had difficulty looking away from her mouth. Even now, surrounded by her relatives, those lips distracted him.

"Pleased to meet you, too, Eli," Edward said politely, a smirk pulling at his mouth.

"Edward...you didn't tell me they were here." The voice was soft and somewhat husky, but it quieted everyone down and Eli watched in amazement as Edward Cullen's face was transformed. A broad smile made him appear years younger as he released his daughter's hand and turned toward the voice.

Bella Cullen was still a beautiful woman, though she had to be in her late sixties, no one would have guessed it by looking at her. Her youthful appearance wasn't the false, forced one of plastic surgery. Instead, it was good health and happiness that made her look younger. Her hair was gleaming white, not grey, but white, and pulled back from her face. She wore a simple pair of dress pants and a blouse along with a pair of sandals. Against his will, Eli found his eyes going to her feet.

Dani had once, under the influence of too much alcohol, revealed her father's fascination with her mother's feet. Now, unable to help himself, Eli noted that Mrs. Cullen's toenails were painted, exactly as Dani had said they would be. Dani knew him too well and began snorting with laughter when she saw where his eyes were.

God, how embarrassing, Eli thought.

Then Mrs. Cullen's slender hand was grasping his. "It's so wonderful to meet you finally," she said. Then she gave her daughter a hug and stood back. "You look wonderful, Dani," she said approvingly. Mrs. Cullen's glance went to Eli. "I have a feeling I should thank you for that."

Eli felt his ears heating up. Blond hair and fair skin was not a good combination for embarrassment. He heard Emmett chuckle. "Thank you, ma'am," Eli muttered. "Thank you for having me, Mrs. Cullen."

"Please, call me Bella," she insisted warmly. She looped her arm through his and began guiding him someplace. At that point, Eli didn't care. He felt almost as if the mama bear had come to rescue him. And he desperately wanted rescuing.

Mrs. Cullen – Bella – led him out onto the porch and settled him into the seat next to hers. The rest of the family filed outside too and began settling into various chairs, but clearly giving Mrs. Cullen the lead.

"So Eli, tell me what it was like to grow up with three younger sisters," Bella asked with a smile.

"It was...busy," Eli replied. "And hard to get my time in the bathroom," he added.

Emmett snorted and his son – Jimmy – yet another lanky teenager piped up. "Tell me about it." Eli and Jimmy shared a look of shared misery. Jimmy also had sisters, two of them. Mackenzie was nineteen and had recently gone away to college. Bailey was sixteen and a constant thorn in Jimmy's side if what Dani said was correct.

He watched with interest as Bailey signed something to her brother that the boy looking chagrined. His dark skin flushed slightly and he cleared his throat. Eli had been learning sign language, but wasn't very good at it. He caught the words "jerk" and "off" however and could make a good guess what Bailey had said.

He wasn't quite sure where to look after that.

From there, the rest of the family went into bicker mode, which Eli recognized well enough. It seemed to be common among large, close families he had noted. Trying to explain what it was like to grow up with all of that noise and teasing and good-natured hassling never made any sense to someone who grew up an only child or with only one sibling that they weren't close to or liked very much.

Eli felt himself relaxing. This was a family dynamic he could understand and relate to. Silently, he watched them interact, gleaning information about each of them.

There was Mr. and Mrs. Cullen. He liked the way Dani's father would reach out every now and then and lightly touch his wife, as if to reassure himself that she was there or to let her know he was thinking about her, even if he was talking to someone else. They seemed to gravitate toward each other in a very natural and sweet way, something Eli liked seeing in a couple married three decades. It reminded him of his parents.

Then there was Emmett and his wife Rosalie. Emmett was almost too big for real life, but it was clear that Rosalie ruled the roost. Even their kids knew to look to Mom. They teased their father with affectionate respect, but their mother was obviously the disciplinarian. Bailey's delicate frame and elfin features were in marked contrast to her father's and brother's height and her mother's more dramatic beauty. Jimmy was tall but lean, oddly built like his grandfather Cullen, to whom he had no genetic attachment.

Sam and Mary were absorbed in each other, talking about a recent trip to South America where they'd been part of a rescue team. They were thrilled to hear how Eli had adopted his dog, Bruiser, just hours before the dog was scheduled to be euthanized at the local pound. Eli was pretty sure he made points there. Dani had told him that both Sam and Mary had scarily brilliant minds, and Eli had been prepared to meet snooty academics. Instead, he was confronted by a very warm and loving couple who were obviously willing to put their money and time where their passions were.

Seth and Abby were interesting. Seth was quieter than Abby, very much so. Abby had a boisterous sense of humor and a rich, husky voice that seemed like it should have belonged to a robust jazz singer from the 1920s. Their red haired, blue eyed sons were fifteen and eleven and acted very much like brothers, meaning they liked to torment each other without mercy. Their father kept a close eye on them, giving them a stern frown every now and then. Abby continued chatting with Gabriella, secure in the knowledge that her husband would keep their boys in line.

Jake kept his eyes on Eli, joining his brother Emmett in giving intimidating stares. His wife, Gabriella was very pretty in a quiet way, soft spoken and gracious. Their daughter Rebecca was very much like her mother, though it was clear that her cousin Jimmy had appointed himself both her protector and her guardian angel. He stepped in when Harrison tried to give Rebecca a hard time over a boy at school. Eddie, at five, was busy running around the yard and yelling a lot.

Looking at all of them, Eli was struck by the various faces and personalities. Somehow, they had brought together this divergent group of people and made them into a close, cohesive family. While Dani made it clear that they didn't always agree, and sometimes those disagreements were loud, the love and affection and respect they all had for each other was very much in evidence as well.

Eli pictured his parents and Dani's interacting, getting to know each other. He thought that they'd get along quite nicely. His sisters would love getting so many new sisters in the bargain – not just Dani, but Rosalie and Abby and Mary and Gabriella. He watched Dani teasing her brothers, holding Eddie on her lap during one of his rare quiet moments, talking quietly with Rebecca, laughing with Abby and pointing at Seth with a smirk on her face.

God, he loved her.

As if she sensed his thoughts, Dani looked up and smiled. Eli returned the smile, thinking about all of the things he'd love to do to her, but which would have to wait until they were alone – completely alone.

At that moment, Edward Cullen pushed aside his son Seth and sat down beside Eli. He looked at him for a moment, as if trying to decide if he liked him or not.

"So...my daughter tells me that you ride a Harley."


	56. Chapter 56: Because We're Family

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**#56 Because We're Family**

I breathed a sigh of relief as we navigated Seth's wheelchair in through the front door. It had been a chore made much more difficult because of the two casts and we were all running on little to no sleep. At least, Emmett closed the door behind us and I think we all drew in a deep breath.

Seth was home.

He sat there in the wheelchair, looking around him like he wasn't quite sure where he was. Of course, that might have been the case. The doctors had told us that the confusion could come and go. I heard Dani's voice squealing in the kitchen where Alyssa had distracted her while we got Seth inside. We were afraid that seeing the unfamiliar process might scare her.

We should have known better.

Seth was in a wheelchair. Wheels being the operative word. When Dani skidded to a halt in front of him, her green eyes went wide at seeing this new piece of equipment. She walked around it, carefully inspecting the wheels. Then she held her hands up imploringly to Seth. "Ride?"

Seth grinned, though the effort was cut short by a grimace as he pulled the still healing laceration on his face. "Sure, princess," he said. His speech was still slow and deliberate. He didn't slur but sometimes you could tell that he had to think about what he wanted to say. The words were there, but they weren't as readily available as they had been in the past.

"Seth," Bella warned.

"Put her on my lap," Seth said. "Carefully. We'll be fine." Again, that slow, measured speech.

I lifted Dani and gingerly placed her on his good leg, the right one. A cast had his left leg fully extended and Dani seemed fascinated with it. She leaned against Seth, completely content now that the missing piece from her world had been restored.

Slowly, Seth tried to maneuver the chair, but with one arm still in a cast that proved to be impossible. That was when Emmett took over the job. Jake walked ahead and he and Sam cleared a path for Seth and Dani. I could hear Jake barking orders and Sam's good natured complaints.

I put my arm around Bella and leaned in close to whisper, "He's home."

She didn't speak, but her teeth were worrying her lower lip as she nodded. I knew what she was feeling. She didn't have to say it. This was a day that we had been terrified would never come.

First, we had feared that Seth would die.

Then, even more terrifying, that his body would survive but the unique spark that made him Seth would have been extinguished in that twisted hulk of metal that had once been a Chevy Suburban. But now, against the odds, he was home and he was still Seth. He had a long road ahead of him, but he'd see the journey through.

We'd all be there to help him.

Tomorrow, our friends and family were going to help us celebrate. Nothing too complicated or long; we didn't want to tax Seth's strength. But he wanted to see everybody and they wanted to see him. We all wanted to reassure ourselves that his recovery wasn't a dream or just wishful thinking. We all needed to reconnect.

We had put a bed in the dining room until Seth was more mobile. Emmett and I had sweated and cursed and moved the dining room set into the garage. Masen had installed some saloon type doors in the archway to give Seth a little more privacy. Emmett and Sam and Jake had moved some of Seth's favorite stuff and arranged it around the bed. Dani had been confused by all the changes. Alyssa said she had been a cranky puss for the past few days. But it was all coming together now and we were finally settling into new routines.

We all needed a good dose of normal. I was taking another week off work with Jasper's blessing. Mr. Hoyt was helping to fill the void. Dewey had pitched in too. Thomas Reynolds and his wife Megan had been pitching in with Dani too. Not for the first time, I realized what good friends we had. We were a motley crew, it was true, but we were bound together as tightly as many families.

I heard Dani laughing and then the boys joined in. All four boys...laughing. Together. Home.

And that's when the tears hit. I had thought I was all cried out. But there they were, sharp and stinging in my eyes. I wiped them away as casual as I could. I took a moment to center myself and took a deep breath.

In my darkest moments of despair, the fear I hadn't been able to show to Bella had been exposed to my brother. Masen had seen me through it, given me the strength to be strong for Bella. I suspected she had shed a few tears on her own too. She would have looked to Will or her dad for that. Somehow, we both had to keep up a good face for each other. When we were weak, it fell to someone else to pick us up for just that short time.

That was okay. That's what families and friends were for, making the road easier in whatever way they could.

Bella stood on her toes and kissed me. "I'm going to go start dinner," she said. "Alyssa said she had everything ready." She had been looking forward to cooking for all of us again. It was just another way to get back in touch with normal.

"I'll check on Seth," I told her, giving her another kiss, this one long and lingering. Maybe tonight would be the night we'd reconnect on a physical level. Maybe not. Whenever it happened, it would be right. We were through the worst of it now.

The saloon doors were flung open. Emmett was helping Seth onto the bed, being careful not to jostle him unnecessarily. Still, it hurt. I could tell by Seth's expression. But he just gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes shut. It was easy for Emmett to lift Seth's emaciated frame. It was amazing how much weight Seth had lost in a few short weeks. He was down thirty pounds at least and was nothing more than skin and bones. Bella was already planning ways to fatten him up.

Sam had Dani settled on his hip, telling her that Emmett was helping Seth onto his bed because Seth had a boo boo. It was language that Dani could understand.

"Ouchie?" she asked, framing Sam's face in her hands as she did when she wanted someone's undivided attention.

"Ouchie," Sam confirmed. "Big ouchie."

Dani's little face crumpled into a frown as she studied Seth. Jake was pulling the covers up over him, being really careful of that leg. Then Emmett leaned down and pointed to the bedside table and whispered something to Seth that set Seth's ears on fire. "I don't think I have to worry about that for a while," Seth muttered. Emmett laughed loudly and nudged Seth's good side. I had a pretty good idea about what was in that drawer, but I wasn't going to ask.

There are some things a Dad just doesn't want or _need_ to know.

Emmett looked easier now that his brother was home. Sure, he loved all of them, and the plain fact was that he adored Dani. But there was a bond between Em and Seth that was special and close. They were the oldest; and they were the ones who had worked the hardest to keep their mother safe when Mac had died. They had all grown up before their time, but especially those two.

I thought Emmett's attitude might also have to do with a visit from a certain young lady. He had confided in me that he had taken my advice and told Rose he'd be waiting for her. I had been both shocked and humbled that he had seen fit to listen to me. Having seen Rose watching him while she was here, I didn't think that Emmett would have to wait forever.

They were young, true, but love was a weird and wondrous thing, always popping up when you least expected it. I figured they'd sort it all out when the time came.

"Okay guys," Emmett said. "Seth's tired and you guys are annoying him."

Jake started to protest but Emmett put a stop to that with one look. Sam helped Dani lean down and place a wet kiss on Seth's cheek. She patted his face. "Ouchie go bye-bye?" she asked. I had to smile. Dani was echoing Bella's words, the thing she said when she kissed all of Dani's little hurts away.

"All better," Seth promised.

Dani grinned at her triumph and began bouncing in Sam's arms. "Geez kid," he complained. "You're getting big."

"Big," Dani said. "Big girl."

"Yeah, yeah, you're a big girl," Jake said. "Sure, sure, a really big girl."

They walked past me, Jake giving me a high five and Sam smiling widely. Dani blew kisses back to Seth, almost toppling out of Sam's arms in the process.

Emmett paused, looking around to make sure that Seth had all he needed. "Remember, when you need to piss, call me. There's your cell phone right there. I'll be sticking close to home."

"Got it," Seth said in a tired voice. "Go on, I'm fine. Just gonna take a little nap."

"Pussy," Emmett said softly, but I heard it. I also heard Seth's answering snort.

I had been ready to go talk to Seth, to tell him how glad I was that he was home. But his eyes were already falling shut even as Emmett walked past me with a pleased smile. I realized I didn't have to tell Seth I was happy that he was home.

There were some things he'd just know...because we were family.


	57. Chapter 57: Once My Bean

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: This is the same visit with the family that was mentioned in the earlier outtake. Someone had said they'd like to see this moment and I thought it was a good choice. Luckily, my muse agreed and cooperated. **_

**#57 Once My Bean**

I was sitting in the kitchen, which was at that point kind of the eye of the storm. It was wonderful to have everyone home, of course. But at times, I still got a little overwhelmed. Even after thirty years of getting used to all of them, they could still drive me to find a little peace and quiet. There were just so damned many of them.

Bella and Dani were catching up on things. Whatever I didn't hear straight from Dani, Bella would be sure to fill me in on, unless she was sworn to "girl code secrecy" of course. Most of the time that trumped marital status, as I had discovered over the years. I was okay with that, because usually it was about things that I cared to pretend weren't happening anyway.

I was happily existing in a world where my daughter had never even _seen_ a penis, much less – Okay, I was going to stop right there before my dinner came right back up.

Of course, my little illusionary world was getting a swift kick in the nuts with the arrival of this Eli fellow. He _seemed_ nice enough. He acted the part well. He was polite and well spoken, _seeming_ like quite the gentleman. Maybe too _much_ the gentleman? That's what I had to figure out. Bella had already lectured me when I had dared to give her my thoughts on this whole Mr. Alexander predicament.

She had blathered on and on about trusting Dani's judgment and how she had never let us down before and how we had raised her to be a good judge of character. Blah, blah, blah. All of that was well and good and under normal circumstances I would bow to Bella's wisdom and Dani's instincts.

But right now I called bullshit and as a father that was my right.

I had been okay, not thrilled but okay, with the idea of this kid coming to meet the family. I was looking forward to the chance to size him up personally, see what he was made of. I hadn't come to any reassuring conclusions. There were a few points against him and I wasn't going to roll out the red carpet for him just yet.

Point one: he did indeed have a Harley. Enough said.

Point two: he put his hand on my daughter's back, her _lower_ back, when they were walking into the room. Why didn't he just go ahead and hump her leg and be done with it?

Point three: he was trying too hard to make a good impression.

Point four: I didn't need a point four because Dani was my daughter, damn it.

So I was sitting in the kitchen brooding. Sulking, Bella would call it. Manly contemplation, I maintained. Either way, I was alone and I could hear them all out there laughing it up and having a good time and that Eli fellow was probably trying to talk Dani into finding a dark corner and he'd be putting his hands all over her body in places that they didn't belong. Ever.

I didn't care if they lived together or not. And that was another thing –

"Mr. Cullen, sir?"

Speak of the devil. I looked up and tried to arrange my face into a welcoming expression but if the way the kid swallowed hard was any indication, I had failed miserably.

Good.

"Yeah?" I knew good and well that Bella would kick my ass if she heard my tone, but she wasn't here and what she didn't know wouldn't hurt me. Right? 

Unless the kid was a snitch. He had that look about him. Can't trust a snitch.

"I wanted to uh...talk to you, sir," he stammered. What kind of man was he if he couldn't even carry on a simple fucking conversation?

"Talk," I said, and shoved a chair out with my feet. That's as much as a gesture as he was going to get. So there. He could just suck it.

The kid took a deep breath as he sat down and then fidgeted with his hands on the table. What did my daughter see in this fellow? "Sir...I wanted to talk to you."

"So you said," I remarked dryly. A look of sheer panic flashed through his eyes and I felt a pang at my behavior.

I was a sulky old fool and I wasn't ready for my baby girl to be a grown up. But that obviously wasn't my choice to make. In truth, she'd been a grown up for years. I sighed and shook my head. Bella wouldn't have to kick my ass; I had a feeling I'd be doing plenty of that on my own. I was still an ass, but hopefully I was still a trainable ass.

"Sorry," I muttered. That was all the apology I could muster but the kid took it graciously, which only pissed me off further. Maybe not so trainable after all.

"Sir, I wanted you to know that I love your daughter," he said quietly. He had stopped fidgeting and trying to avoid my gaze. Now I was staring straight into his eyes and I realized that this "kid" was thirty two, which wasn't all that much younger than I had been when I met Bella.

Well, damn. When the hell had I gotten so fucking old?

"And I'd do anything to see her happy," he went on. "The thing is..." He blew out a breath and leaned in close. "The thing is, sir, I've got a...ring." My heart sank like a stone in the ocean. "And I want to give it to her, ask her to marry me. Because even though sometimes she makes me crazed, I can't imagine living a single day of my life without her." I knew exactly what he meant, because her mother had completed my life and Dani had added a new dimension to it. I found myself growing fonder of this interloper, because he'd recognized our Dani's worth. He couldn't be_ all_ bad if he could see that. But he was talking about my baby girl, the child I'd once called Bean. The toddler I had chased down the hallway. The young lady I had taught to drive. The woman I had watched leave for boot camp. And now I was being asked to let her go completely.

Dozens of memories flashed through my head.

Dani, as a newborn, blinking around at the world as if wondering where the hell she'd ended up.

Dani, toddling along with Emmett holding her hands, hunched over and walking with her until his back ached.

An older Dani, scaring the shit out of us as she rode her bike hell bent for leather.

Dani, begging to get her pilot's license.

Dani, confessing to getting what proved to be the first of many, many speeding tickets.

A heartbroken Dani, sitting beside me while Christmas carols played in the background. Some stupid boy had broken her heart and I held her while she cried and waited for her mom to come home. I had looked up to see four identical expressions of outrage on her brothers' faces. They'd all been home for the holidays. It had taken some fast talking to convince them that that stupid boy didn't need a little visit from the four of them.

Dani, sitting in the same chair that Eli was sitting in, explaining to us why she wanted to join the Navy and be a pilot.

Watching Dani being sworn in, pledging to protect our country and thinking back to my own swearing in some forty years before. God, I'd been proud. And terrified. An equal mixture of both had had my gut roiling and the tears threatening.

And now there was this brand new milestone, this boy, this _man_, who said he loved my daughter and wanted to spend his life with her.

Sincerity and genuine respect shone in his eyes, and even I, who didn't want to admit it, could see that he loved her with everything he had inside of him. It reminded me of the look I'd seen on Emmett's face when he told me that one day he was going to marry his Rose. Or on Seth's face when he'd introduced us to Abby. Sam's joy that had made him practically vibrate when he'd talked about Mary. Or Jake's exuberant, boisterous enthusiasm when he'd brought home the woman and child he loved.

We loved hard and strong, all of us.

Dani was no exception. If this man said he loved her, then I knew she loved him too. I'd seen it on her face, in her eyes, the way she constantly sought him out with her glance, the way she'd softened when he touched her in the simplest way. Dani, who could be hard as nails and as tough as a pit bull, was someone different with this kid. Still herself, but softer and kinder, easier in her own skin. She didn't have to prove herself to him and she knew it.

And he loved her.

He had been watching me while I struggled to reconcile my memories of that little girl on a tricycle with the capable young woman who was about to embark on the biggest adventure of a lifetime – loving someone in the forever kind of way.

I smiled at him and watched as his whole body relaxed and a line of sweat broke out on his forehead. Yeah, I still had it, and the mean part of me was giving myself a pat on the back. "So you love my baby girl, son?"

He nodded, swallowing hard again. "And I always will. I'll do whatever I can to make her happy. I'll move where she needs me to; I'll make sure that she's happy and well taken care of, though if I say it like that she's going to kick my ass."

Well, at least he knew what kind of tiger he had by the tail, I thought.

"They don't like to be hovered over, these Cullen women," I warned him.

"Yes sir, I got that loud and clear when she had the flu two months ago," Eli said with feeling. "I won't make that mistake again, I assure you." I had to laugh, because I imagined that Dani had pinned his ears back a time or two. He was easy going and calm, which was exactly what someone like Dani needed. Another fireball like her, and they'd burn it all to the ground around them before they knew what hit them.

"But that doesn't mean they don't need to be taken care of," I added. "You just have to do it subtle like."

"Subtle," Eli said with a nod. "I can do subtle."

"Then you'd be the first man who could," I told him with a snort. His face fell and I sighed. He was still too scared to think anything was funny. Good. "You'll screw it up from time to time, but Dani's got a forgiving heart, like her mother."

"Yes, sir," Eli said.

"She's impatient and reckless, but I suppose you know that already."

"I do," Eli admitted with a rueful smile. "And she drives too fast."

I couldn't really say much about that, so I grunted. Grunting came in handy, though Bella refused to see it.

"Well then, I guess you know what you're about," I admitted. "You didn't have to come to me, so I appreciate the gesture. But we both know that my daughter will damn well decide for herself what she wants."

"And how," Eli agreed with a roll of his eyes.

I had to laugh, because I knew I had had the same expression countless times when dealing with one of Dani's escapades. "Sometimes you just need to have a beer and sit back and let her wind down," I advised. "There's no stopping her, so just get out of the way."

"That's my usual strategy," he confessed with a grin.

"Then you'll do just fine." I held out my hand, all polite and everything. Bella would be proud of me. "So...I guess this is where I say welcome to the family, son."

"I guess it is." But it wasn't Eli who spoke. It was Dani, standing in the doorway, her eyes shimmering with tears and Bella's arms wrapped around her.

Dani launched herself at Eli and I allowed myself a little moment of regret that I wasn't her go-to guy anymore. Someone had taken my place, as it should be. But it still hurt like hell.

Bella hugged me, trying to ease the ache. It helped, but the ache was still there – always would be there. I'd deal.

Then Dani was turning to me, hugging me close and whispering in my ear, "Thank you, Daddy, for being you."

And the ache wasn't quite so bad anymore.

Not quite.


End file.
